


Freed by Imagination

by Madlymiho



Series: Web of Disasters [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Attraction, Auctions, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Manipulation, Guns, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, M/M, Psychopaths In Love, Robbery, Smut, Thriller, Trapped, Violence, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlymiho/pseuds/Madlymiho
Summary: A year after their meeting, Kurapika is forced to share his life with Chrollo and the rest of the Phantom Troupe members. Despite his repulsion and anger for the Troupe leader, Kurapika feels deeply bound to the man, making him unable to escape or be separated for too long. Yet, things are about to change for the young man because terrible events are about to happen, leading Kurapika to have to make devastating choices…PART 3 IS OUT !





	1. Away with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [papaphinks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papaphinks/gifts).



> Hello people!
> 
> To perfectly understand the plot here, I highly suggest you to read the first part of this story. Click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11013576/chapters/24540090) to catch up !
> 
>  
> 
> **This story implies different warnings: dub-con, violence, illegal stuff like robberies, and a twisted attraction between two deadly ennemies.**
> 
>  
> 
> If you're still there: Enjoy your reading ! 
> 
> As always, support the author! If you liked my story, don't hesitate to leave a comment or a kudo, I'm always glad to answer you ~

 

There was a blank space inside Leorio’s schedule and he hated it down to his very core. This blank spot, he saw it every week, where it used to be one of his patient’s appointments, and it reminded him that it something had happened. The first week Kurapika Kurta had missed his appointment with Leorio, he had thought that the man had simply forgotten, even if it wasn’t normal for him, or maybe he was sick at the moment and wasn’t able to make it. He had tried to call, once or twice, he didn’t remember anymore, and he still cursed himself because he hadn’t seen this coming. But then, Kurapika had been absent to his second meeting, and at the moment, Leorio had understood that something was terribly wrong. He had tried to reach the boy every day, leaving concerned messages, until Kurapika’s phone was shut down for good. Then, Leorio had started to panic. Not only because he had lost a patient in the wild, but on the top of that, he knew that his friend was in danger. Leorio had blamed himself because he had understood how dangerous that “Reversed Cross” could be, and yet, he had done nothing. As a good therapist, he had only advised his patient to be careful about his relationship with the stranger, yet, back then, he had spotted a real issue, and somehow, he hadn’t protected Kurapika. Not enough. Not as a good friend should do. He should have convinced Kurapika that he was reckless, yet, he had chosen to remain distant, and now, he paid for it.

 

“Hello, sir?” someone asked behind him, and Leorio had to shake his head to come back to reality. “Are you okay?”

 

Leorio spun on himself, and met for the very first time a teen with round and friendly brown eyes. He offered an imperceptible smile and nodded softly.

 

“Sorry kid,” he said as he tried to sound relax, “I was checking if my friend was home.”

 

“Oh, you don’t know what happened?”

 

Leorio felt goosebumps cover his back as he anticipated something terrible. It wasn’t the first time he had checked Kurapika’s apartment, hoping that the young boy would finally be home. Yet, now, it seemed that the story he had always feared was about to be real. He swallowed his spit, blanker than usual, as he had to put the palm of his hand on the doorway to support his weight as his legs grew weak.

 

“No, well…I…I meant,” he stuttered, his head spinning quickly as he managed to keep his balance. “What…What happened?”

 

“I saw him several weeks ago. He was with a man,” the neighbor said, and Leorio couldn’t help but notice that the teenager seemed concerned. Yet, as he met Leorio’s gaze, he was suddenly afraid to say too much. He lowered his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “He left with him.”

 

“He took his stuff? He left the apartment for good?” Leorio almost yelled, walking forward, almost ready to catch the teenager’s shoulders.

 

But, it seemed that the young boy was disturbed at the moment. He stepped backwards, immediately bumping into the door behind him, until this one was opened by another teenager with white hair and a dangerous look in the eyes.

 

“What do you want old creep?” he snapped just before he took a look at his friend’s face. “Did he try to hurt you?”

 

“What? No!” Leorio gasped, annoyed to be treated as a threat. He took out his business card from his trousers’ pocket and showed it to the two neighbors. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Leorio Paladiknight, and the boy who used to live here was my patient. He disappeared a few weeks ago and I’m looking for him. I’m really concerned about his situation.” He waved the card in front of them until the white-haired boy finally grabbed it. “You can call the hospital if you want to be sure, but I’m not lying.”

 

The boy who had taken the card seemed to be skeptical about Leorio’s statement. He looked at the card several times, his eyebrows furrowed as he read the information. Yet, the more friendly boy seemed to understand that Leorio was no threat to them.

 

“Come on,” he whispered in his mate’s ear, “He was his therapist, I’m sure he could help us!”

 

“Gon, I’ve already told you several times that he was a loner. Why do you want to help him so much?” the other boy snapped as he looked back at Gon. “I told you to stay away from him! His story on the web was the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen!”

 

* * *

 

 

He both loved it and hated it. He loved the way his chest rose with every breath, his face appeased and relieved from anything. He couldn’t help but gaze at his long lashes, softly tickling the top of his cheeks, as his eyes remained shut. He noticed how a few strands of his raven hair fell like usual over his forehead, but not totally, revealing the strange target he had tattooed on his skin, where there used to be a headband when he had met him. He even gazed at the two massive earrings he wore every day, like two giant blue and green bubbles ready to explode, lazily touching the top of the pillow, reflecting the morning light. Chrollo Lucilfer was Kurapika’s death in every way imaginable. He had taken everything from him, even his pride, even his freedom. He had trapped him like an animal, slowly closing his spider’s legs over his body, until he wasn’t able to move or defend himself. He had been naïve, blinded by Chrollo’s words and by his own attraction, while he had lost himself to that forbidden passion. He had given him everything, even his heart, even if he had tried not to, and every day the head of the most famous murderers’ gang walked on it and crushed it to the ground.

 

“Mmm… Don’t do that again,” Kurapika barely heard, as a whisper came from Chrollo’s mouth, and he understood way too late that he had spotted him. “I already told you it was creepy.”

 

And then, he felt Chrollo’s hands coming up to his bare arm, fondling the skin with his careful fingers, softly, like he was made of porcelain. Kurapika was both repelled and seduced by the gesture. He froze in his position, sitting on the bed he had been sharing with Chrollo - for months.

 

“You’re warm…,” Chrollo hummed softly as he stood back up and wrapped his arms around Kurapika’s waist. “How can you be so warm? It’s barely seven in the morning.”

 

Kurapika felt it: the powerful nausea which wrenched his stomach, and yet, assured him that he wouldn’t throw up. It was like his body was trapped between two worlds and he couldn’t escape from them. On one hand, he needed to run away, to stop this madness and the hold Chrollo had on him from the beginning, but on the other hand, he loved every single treatment he got from Chrollo: from the care he thought he had noticed in his gray eyes to the kind gestures he only reserved for him. But, Kurapika couldn’t think anymore about his pitiful life because Chrollo’s mouth was already leaving kisses all along his back.

 

“You smell nice…,” he said as he pressed his bare chest against Kurapika’s back. “It’s like a whole new spring for me.”

 

“Oh cut it out, that’s just cheesy,” Kurapika snapped as he removed the sheets over his legs and climbed out of the bed, pissed off. He heard Chrollo giggle behind him as he grabbed his trousers off the ground, so he looked back at him. “What? What’s so funny? I’m not in the mood for a morning humiliation you damn fucker!”

 

“Oi, language,” Chrollo teased as he gave him one of his seductive smiles, finally imitating Kurapika’s gesture, putting his feet onto the floor. “You’re always so angry in the morning.”

 

Kurapika froze as he was about to put his shirt on, noticing how accurate Chrollo’s statement was. Often, he was enraged against the other, every morning in fact, because it was at this particular moment that he understood his nightmare was real. Yet, then, when Chrollo left the place, hanging out somewhere only he knew, sometimes for days before he would come back again, Kurapika felt his heart swell with a new and unpleasant feeling because he missed Chrollo very much. He wished it wasn’t true, that the feeling was just something to fool him, and yet, it never left him alone. Every day without Chrollo around was a disagreeable torture.

 

“I know, I’m…,” Kurapika whispered, eventually putting his shirt on. He heard some shuffling behind him, followed by soft and graceful footsteps. He felt a hand around his waist and lips kissing his neck. Kurapika closed his eyes, already knowing that Chrollo was about to leave somewhere, maybe for days. He was always so kind to him when he had to leave. “I guess I’ll see you around very soon.”

 

He removed himself from Chrollo’s arms and left for the bathroom, avoiding those gray eyes at all costs, which could make him beg for more than just little morning kisses. He closed the door, hiding himself inside the tiny room as he finally caught his reflection in the mirror. He sighed loudly as his eyes were already mapping his own neck, covered with different marks made by Chrollo’s expert teeth. He hated what he saw, a blonde boy living in two dark worlds, his heart stolen by the one responsible for his family’s death, his mind poisoned with anger and loneliness. How could he have let all those things happen? Everything that happened, it was all because he had done nothing. He hadn’t been trapped, he had _chosen_ to fall into Chrollo’s arms. He took his shirt off, and then his trousers, like suddenly everything felt so heavy, deciding that he needed a long and hot shower, at least to calm his mind. He left his clothes on the floor, and quickly reached the shower, shivering a little; it was cold outside. He didn’t remember which season it was, maybe early winter. Those months spent with Chrollo had made him lose time track. He entered the shower, turning on the water to warm his body up. He let the hot liquid run over his body as he clenched his fist and put his forehead onto the cool wall. He was lost. _Terribly lost_. Every day, he had the terrible sensation that he betrayed his family, regardless of how kind and tender Chrollo was with him. He started to imagine his mother’s blurry face, her eyes showing disgust and anger. It was awful, being tossed between the need to stay with Chrollo and the memory of his dead family. After all, he was as responsible as the raven-haired man, since he had accepted this strange situation; somehow he knew it. Tears started to fall down his cheeks, mixing themselves with the water. It was an everlasting questioning, and of course, a new form of bitterness. He hated himself more than anything in the world.

 

“Hey you…,” he heard from behind him and jumped, caught off guard, his face deformed by sadness and guilt. Chrollo was here, his body naked as he entered the shower.

 

“Just…don’t…,” Kurapika tried to say, yet Chrollo’s arms were already around his tiny waist, holding him tight, the water splashing onto his shoulders. “I...I hate you so much,” he managed to say, as he looked at Chrollo, trembling inside his arms. “I fucking hate you.”

 

Chrollo smiled sadly as he grabbed Kurapika’s chin with his thumb and middle finger. He was so beautiful with his hair wet and plastered against his head. “I know. You have every right to feel that.”

 

And then, as always, Kurapika felt the need to hold him and feel him. He wrapped his arms around Chrollo’s waist and came closer until his chest was strongly crushed onto Chrollo’s. He was crying, like he hadn’t for so many years, his face hidden inside his lover’s neck.

 

“Then, why do I hate when you have to leave more than I hate you?” Kurapika finally asked, as he dug his fingernails inside Chrollo’s back. “Why do I feel  like this?”

 

As an answer, Chrollo captured Kurapika’s lips, his mouth soft when he kissed him. Kurapika felt like he was melting under his touch. He responded to the kiss, softly opening his own mouth as he enjoyed Chrollo’s gesture. They each closed their eyes, silently sharing this moment under the shower, their bodies crushed together as if they were one.

 

* * *

 

And just like that, Chrollo was gone. The king sized bed Kurapika and him shared was empty. He was nowhere to be found. The first three days, Kurapika felt relieved to have some time for himself, hanging around inside the mansion he lived in for several months. He didn’t know exactly where he was for the moment, yet, he got used to it. He knew that no one would actually search for him, even if he had dreamed about it a lot. So, Kurapika had finally accepted the situation as if there was no possibility of escape.

 

Since Chrollo was gone for the moment, he first thought that it was a blessing, being far from the guy and his possessiveness. But the more the days passed, the more Kurapika felt lost and sick to be alone. There were, of course, some members of the Phantom Troupe around, but he didn’t want to share anything with them. He took his time avoiding them, at all costs, even the strange and thin woman dressed in a suit, who tried to speak with him several times. The most annoying among them was a strange character, who was usually “the clown” by the others. He was a true outsider among them, always desperate to fight Chrollo’s decisions, and moreover, most of them were pissed off when he was around. Kurapika had finally understood that the man was a true pain in the ass, so he had discreetly tried to avoid him, especially when he had heard that this Hisoka always had something against Chrollo’s lovers.

 

Without Chrollo, Kurapika was alone in the world. He eventually understood that he missed everything about him, even his physical presence, his touch, and their strange relationship. He wanted to share the bed with him, hug him, fight him, and reject him. He needed it more than anything in the world and Chrollo was too far away to give him what he wanted. And, Kurapika hated him for that. Of course, Chrollo never contacted him when he was out of the mansion, and somehow, Kurapika was thankful because he knew that he would have been worried. And, why so? Why would he be worried about a mastermind criminal? It didn’t make any sense.

 

Chrollo had been gone...for three weeks now. Kurapika felt like a ghost, hidden somewhere far away from any sort of happiness. He didn’t want to do anything even if he was free to move anywhere inside the house, and moreover, even if he had permission to use the computer, he hadn’t used it, not even once. Somehow, he didn’t want to reach anyone, even his therapist and friend, Leorio. Maybe it was because he was afraid of his reaction, or maybe he was terrified about the idea of betraying Chrollo, but he had kept himself far away from the computer and all other forms of media he had found. Yet, eventually, Kurapika had started to dig inside Chrollo’s library and he had been absolutely surprised to see the numerous books on the shelves. For the past few days, it had been his motivation, and somehow a way to better understand who Chrollo was.

 

It was during that cold afternoon that he heard an argument coming from the spacious living room downstairs.

 

“I told you that was a fucking trap, but you didn’t listen to me!” a male voice yelled as a door was slammed.

 

“How could I know? It should have been just a little robbery! But, maybe you’re just not good at it anymore?” someone answered, and Kurapika was pretty sure he had recognized it as Feitan from the Troupe, with his drawling voice.

 

Feitan...who had left with Phinks, Nobunaga, Uvogin, Shizuku, Shalnark…and _Chrollo_. Kurapika felt his heart hurting in his chest, as he put his book down to sneak to the top of the stairs, in order to hear them better.

 

“Stop acting like children! Now’s not the time!” Pakunoda snapped aggressively as there were still protestations all around her. “What happened?”

 

“Where’s the clown, Paku? Where’s that stupid fucking cunt, I’m gonna cut his damn throat right now!”

 

Kurapika was sure he had just heard Phinks proclaiming those threats. Again, there was a problem with Hisoka. The clown had left the mansion a few days after the Troupe and none of them had heard anything from him since his departure. Yet, Kurapika definitely felt worried at the moment. Among all the voices, he desperately wanted to hear someone in particular…

 

“Where’s Danchou?” Machi asked, as they seemed to calm themselves down, certainly because of Pakunoda and the Machi’s help. “The boss isn’t with you?”

 

“You know him, he doesn’t really share where he goes. He left us the job the very first week we were gone, and then he was out, other things to do,” Phinks answered, his voice a little bit less audible. It was like they were all moving somewhere else. Kurapika had to go down a few steps to catch the rest of the conversation. Unfortunately for him…

 

“By the way…What do we do about the bitch upstairs?”

 

“Phinks!” a man snapped harshly. “That’s none of our business.”

 

“What the fuck is he doing anyway? He’s just a toy, and I don’t want to babysit that parasite anymore. We already have that damn clown to deal with, we don’t need a wounded dog too,” Phinks said. As no one answered, he lost his temper. “Seriously? None of you agree with me?”

 

“Again, Phinks, that’s none of our business. Leave the boss to it,” Pakunoda replied patiently, yet her voice was tired.

 

“I don’t like it. We should vote. Shizuku, give me a coin please. Tails, I promise to leave him the fuck alone. Heads, I’m going up there right now to kill that last fucking useless Kurta survivor for good. Okay?”

 

There was a pregnant pause, and Kurapika held his breath until they made their decision. He felt desperate, his mind poisoned by their casual conversation about his potential death. It meant nothing to them; he was just an animal, a pet that Chrollo had found, and that none of them wanted to keep. He was disgusted by their behaviors, unable to understand what he had done to be treated like that. After all, he had always been a victim in the first place, and he didn’t deserve all this hate. He had left them alone, and even if Phinks hadn’t seen him for several weeks, his animosity remained present and vigorous as the very first time he had met him, just after he had known who Chrollo really was.

 

“No games. No more talks about Kurapika. You just have to leave him alone, Phinks,” Machi finally decided, breaking the everlasting silence in the room. “ _For the moment_ ,” she added, giving Kurapika goosebumps everywhere.

 

Afraid to hear something else, Kurapika left the stairs and walked back to the room he shared with Chrollo. He had never felt so threatened until now.

 

* * *

 

How had he managed to fall asleep that night? He didn’t know. It was like his exhaustion had finally caught up to him, even if he had been focused on every sound coming from the house. He had been afraid, to hear someone open the door and sneak inside the room, maybe to make him shut his mouth for good. He had tried to stay awake, yet, it had been impossible, and his body had eventually betrayed him so much that he had fallen into a profound sleep. So profound that he hadn’t heard the door being opened…very softly…So profound that he hadn’t felt the fingers around the back of his neck and the powerful smell of blood coming from them. Not until his mind had felt that something was wrong did he open his eyes widely, just before he yelled as soon as he understood that he wasn’t alone anymore.

 

“No! No, leave me alone! Don’t!” he begged, moving inside the sheets to find a way to escape the fingers and the strength of the stranger. “I beg you, please!”

 

Yet, the hands were still around his body and he was firmly restricted against the mattress.

 

“Kurapika, stop!” a voice whispered calmly, and yet he couldn’t stop fighting back, sometimes hurting his supposed attacker with his tiny fists. “It’s me! It’s me!”

 

And then, the lights were switched on, and Kurapika, covered with sweat, scared to his core, finally recognized the man. Chrollo looked like he had run for miles, his clothes torn here and there, and several wounds all over his body, yet, it was truly him. Here he was, smiling, reassuring, and his grey eyes were nothing but pure forgiveness.

 

“You’re…,” Kurapika started to say, yet his voice was already quivering as his vision blurred, “Here…You won’t…You won’t kill me, right?”

 

And Chrollo froze, because what he had heard was truly a shock to him. He stopped touching Kurapika’s face, his poisoning grey eyes locked onto his features. Kurapika harshly swallowed his spit, unable to think anymore, already afraid he had crossed a line. After all, he wasn’t a part of the Spider, he was just here to please Chrollo, in one way or another. The raven-haired man knew his mates for many years, since childhood, as he had confessed one night during those strange pillow-talks, when Kurapika felt a little normal for the first time since he had left his life for good. But now, the blond felt he had done something wrong, and maybe that he had revealed a weird yet inevitable truth. Somehow, he had always hoped, deep down, that he wasn’t some kind of toy, that he was more, truly _more_ for his gorgeous lover. But, the Troupe’s members knew Chrollo so well, and their conversation was trapped inside Kurapika’s mind like a deadly lullaby, here to remind him the cruel truth about his situation. And Chrollo seemed so pissed off at the moment, his eyes as dark as the sky itself, his eyebrows furrowed, silent, ready to deal with serious business.

 

“Who was it?” he asked,his voice was like a billion ice spears thrown at Kurapika’s heart. “Tell me.”

 

Kurapika didn’t understand the question, his feelings strangely conflicted. Chrollo was obviously mad, he could tell. Everything about his features was dangerous, and yet, there was still this everlasting sorrow inside his eyes and the promise of a silent apology. Or maybe, it was just his own wishful thinking? Maybe he hoped to see softness in Chrollo, to reassure himself inside this strange dance they shared. He felt awful to hope for that, and yet, he couldn’t stop, he wanted to believe in it. And finally, Chrollo made a move, softly cupping his cheeks to fondle them. Kurapika felt relieved, but still torn, because he understood that he had missed this contact so much. _Way more than he should_.

 

“Answer me please. Who was it? Who threatened you?” Chrollo asked again, this time, his voice much softer than before.

 

Kurapika melted inside his touch, and driven by the need to feel him, and be protected by him, he crawled to him and wrapped his legs around his waist as he sat on his lap and embraced him fervently. He dug his hands inside his raven hair, enjoying its softness and its smell, as he hide his face inside Chrollo’s neck. Strangely, he felt safer, even if his mind was still here to remind him how atrocious the situation was. He should go, he should yell and leave the room, but he stayed tightly plastered to Chrollo, easily breathing in and out to calm himself down. And softly, like he had felt so many times before, there was this tiny burn inside his stomach as his crotch tickled him. It always felt like a betrayal, but he had missed the man so much, and more than that, he had missed their contact and the tenderness of Chrollo. He craved it. So, routine as an old song, he lifted his head up, letting his gaze travel through Chrollo’s features, like he was about to discover something new, something he didn’t know already. He bit his bottom lip as soon as Chrollo embraced him harder, certainly sharing the same feeling as Kurapika, his grey eyes awakened by need and want. The demon was back, this very one that Kurapika couldn’t fight, and wouldn’t want to. Like a plea, he crushed his lips against him, their mouths already opening themselves, their tongues sliding to dance together like it was meant to be. Chrollo’s grip slowly started to get stronger as their breaths became heavier and erratic. They were overwhelmed by their reunion, enjoying their contact and the promise of a night together. As they kept kissing, Chrollo moved and pushed Kurapika’s back onto the mattress, their crotches meeting to leave them dizzy and far more aroused.

 

“I wanted you so bad…,” Chrollo whispered, digging his nose inside Kurapika’s neck to softly bite the skin and leave a purple circle. “Did you miss me?”

 

“Yes…,” Kurapika softly breathed out, his legs wrapped tensely around Chrollo’s waist as he was slowly led into another world. “Those nights without you were the longest.”

 

It pinched his heart to admit it, yet, it was the unbelievable truth. He had missed him, every night since he had left the mansion, trapped in his loneliness. He had wanted him, every time he had been naked, laid onto the sheets, pleasuring himself as his mind was only focused on Chrollo’s body and essence. There was nothing to say, he had surrendered to his desire a long time ago, even if he had been uncertain about what they shared together. Was it still manipulation? Was it what the doctors would called Stockholm Syndrome or something?

 

“Stay with me, hun. Don’t go anywhere,” Chrollo said tenderly near his ear as Kurapika was meeting reality once again.  

 

Yet, it was like something was gone for good. Even if he was still rock hard inside his pants, he remembered why he was here in the first place. It wasn’t a reunion between his lover and he, oh no. It was far away from it. Suddenly revulsed, Kurapika moved backward and forced Chrollo to step away from him. As a barrier, he took the sheets in hand and pulled them up to cover his legs and torso. Chrollo looked at him, with those incredibly sorry eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed, as he remained silent. Kurapika realized he was still covered with blood and that his clothes were still falling apart everywhere. He had certainly been in a fight, and as soon as Kurapika focused himself on the blood, he started to tremble, suddenly very aware of the situation. Chrollo sighed and stood back up, pulling off the remains of his used to be shirt, as he walked to the bathroom.

 

“That’s not someone else’s,” he said, as he froze, near the bathroom’s doorstep, “That’s mine.”

 

“You’re still a monster…,” Kurapika answered, so softly that Chrollo almost missed it.

 

And as he opened the door and switched the light on, he added, with a neutral voice, “Yes, I am.”

 

As he heard the shower turn on, Kurapika let loose a desperate sigh and laid down in the bed. He knew that he needed help and that he couldn’t handle this situation forever. The choice should be simple to make, yet, it was like there was no issue to solve his problem. He wanted to be with, and without, Chrollo. And, this everlasting questioning wouldn’t stop. Somehow, Kurapika started to think about his therapist friend and tried to picture how the man would advise him. He smiled, as soon as he remembered their conversation inside the doctor’s office, sometimes bothered by phone calls or emergencies, but all of this was a part of their routine. Kurapika furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to reach a calendar, left on the night table, wondering what day it was. As a friendly memory, he saw it was Saturday, that particular day of the week when Leorio and he would met. Nostalgia was pumping through his head when Chrollo finally stepped out of the bathroom, entirely naked, cleansed from every little drop of blood he had before. As he was drying his hair with a towel, he slowly walked to the other side of the room, ready to take the couch as a bed for the night. Kurapika felt the urge to stop him.

 

“No,” he almost yelled, as Chrollo froze to turn and face him. “Stay with me.”

 

Chrollo dropped the towel onto the floor, visibly unsure.

 

“Kurapika…”

 

“Please…Stay with me.”

 

He couldn’t fight it, it was out of his reach. He was away. _Away with him_.

 

“Okay…,” Chrollo finally accepted, before he moved back to the bed and laid down near Kurapika.

 

Kurapika caught his hand and wrapped it around his waist, just before he put his back against Chrollo’s, enjoying the wet skin, still warm and soft. It was unbelievable, how safe he felt, at the moment, laid inside the arms of the man who murdered his family.

 


	2. Swinging at the Edge of the Void

Gon and Killua were really helpful, and it was something that Leorio hadn’t planned on at all when he had met them. At first, there was this kind of animosity between Killua and him, because despite his very young age, the boy was a cynical person, leading him to acting rudely towards Leorio. In the beginning, Leorio had concluded that it was something about him, because Killua had never trusted Kurapika in the first place, and had always contested Gon’s friendship with the missing blond boy. Plus, as Leorio was Kurapika’s former therapist, Killua had certainly thought that he was responsible for this situation. Gently, somehow, Leorio had managed to find a way to work with Killua’s fears, after several weeks, certainly thanks to Gon’s urging and his pressing every day to Killua to help Leorio with his research. Then, Killua had agreed, eventually reaching out to his powerful family, the Zoldycks, especially his father Silva and his brother, Illumi, telling them about Kurapika and the fact that he had disappeared for a long time.

 

Indeed, the Zoldyck family were well-known in the city since they were all smart and famous detectives, from father to sons, and they had solved many cases too tricky for the local police. It was Silva Zoldyck who had been called when King Meruem’s jewels had been stolen last year, and he was the very man who had testified that the crime had been committed by the famous thieves. But what Leorio didn’t know, was that there was an strange everlasting battle between the Zoldyck family and the Phantom Troupe, and it had been noticed after many years that it was more a personal war than a true fight for justice. Of course, Leorio didn’t know anything about the relationship Kurapika had with the Troupe, despite himself, but as soon as Killua had evocated the boy’s disappearance, somehow, he had awakened Silva’s curiosity. Silva Zoldyck, like his father before, was a dangerous man, known to be quick to anger and arrogant, and Chrollo had always loved playing games with him, leading him to false leads or insolvable cases. Yet, it had stopped as time passed, the Phantom Troupe becoming more an urban legend than anything else, and it had pissed Silva Zoldyck off. Yet, the detective had a strange hunch tickling him as soon as he had heard Killua’s story, so he had reached Leorio and had agreed to a meeting with the doctor.

 

It was during this early winter afternoon that Leorio was heading to the police station, tensed like he had never been before, anxious because he was on his way to meet Silva. When Killua had shown interest in the case, without even mentioning the Phantom Troupe, the man had done his own research, still missing some essential points that he wanted to bring to light with Leorio’s help. For Silva, it was a true lead, and for the first time after eight long years, he was about to take his revenge on Chrollo Lucilfer, the head of the Troupe itself. Finally entering the building, Leorio was invited to walk to the guest room, where he was soon to be joined by Silva. Other than the police chief, an old man named Isaac Netero, there was no one else in the room, which made Leorio even more panicked. See, he had always heard rumors about Isaac and Silva, and how the two men were harsh and committed to their work. So if they would have any suspicions against Leorio, he was about to spend a really awful time with them. Silently, he sat in one of the four metal chairs littered about the room, which was more like an _interrogation_ room than a guest room. There was nothing friendly about it, certainly because of the metal table in the middle, the neon lights plastered on the roof, giving the place a hostile and cold feeling. All it missed was just the large tinted window on the wall and Leorio would had thought he was in deep trouble.

 

“Mister Paladiknight, thanks for coming. I know you have a busy schedule,” Silva eventually said as he closed the door behind him and sat in a chair to face Leorio. “It won’t take long.”

 

Silva tried to offer a little smile, but it was more an awful smirk to Leorio, and he couldn’t help but pray for the end of this interrogation. He didn’t feel welcome inside the building, and somehow, Silva’s voice sounded unfriendly and accusing.

 

“Well, if I can help, that’s the least I can do for my-”

 

But, Silva cut all the civilities out by crushing a picture onto the table. Leorio felt the gesture as a lack of politeness, yet his eyes were attracted by the photo and soon enough he recognized Kurapika. He felt his heart hurting inside his chest as he saw the young man for the very first time since he had disappeared, almost one year ago. He was standing inside the plaza's station, checking something on his phone. Obviously, the photo came from a security camera, because of the color, the view, and the grey lines crossing through the picture horizontally. Leorio took it into his hands, and furrowed his eyebrows; it seemed that Kurapika hadn’t changed at all, even after a year.

 

“When was it taken?” he finally asked, looking for something, like a clue to find him.

 

“January the 8th, around 10 pm. Do you recognize this man?”

 

Leorio averted his gaze to watch Silva, just to check if the man was serious. He was somehow truly disappointed to understand that it wasn’t a recent photo, but the very last one taken of Kurapika. Yet, he couldn’t tell if Silva was joking or not, because he remained like an icy stone, gazing at the therapist with his sharp green eyes.

 

“Of course I know him,” Leorio answered as he sighed, looking back at the picture. “He’s my patient. His name is Kurapika Kurta.”

 

“What did he consult you about?” Silva asked right away, like he was about to discover something truly important. Yet, Leorio felt that the man had crossed a line, and glared at him.

 

“What happens in my office stays in my office, Mr.Zoldyck. You can’t ask me to break my doctor-patient confidentiality, it’s against the law,” Leorio snapped, while he didn’t break eye contact with the detective. He truly didn’t like Silva’s behavior, yet, he wanted to know exactly why the man wanted to see him.

 

And as an answer, Isaac Netero put another picture onto the desk, this time, another man, dressed in a long coat with a white fur around the neck. The face couldn’t be seen, but Leorio understood it was something about that man Kurapika had met online.

 

“This man, here, is probably the most dangerous threat to our city. This is not something you take lightly, Mr.Paladiknight,” Netero continued, his voice less aggressive than Silva’s. “He’s responsible for many deaths around the world, and he’s been involved in many robberies and crimes for almost ten years. His name his Chrollo Lucilfer and he’s the leader of the Phantom Troupe. And, we believe that your patient Kurapika Kurta knows this man.”

 

“What did you just say..?”

 

Leorio felt his jaw drop as soon as he heard the shocking news. He had thought about many things since Kurapika had disappeared, but certainly not about the fact that he had met the man responsible for his family’s death. He stood back up, his heart pumping inside his chest as if it was about to explode for good.

 

“You…You need to find him! He has been trapped!” Leorio yelled, horrified, gazing at Isaac and Silva sitting in front of him. “He’s in danger!”

 

“Dr.Paladiknight, why would you think that Mr.Kurta has been trapped? We’re almost pretty sure that their meeting was conse- ”

 

“Kurta! Are you dumb? Don’t you hear the name you’re pronouncing?” Leorio snapped as he slammed Kurapika’s picture onto the desk, making the table shake under his pressure. “Kurta, like the clan the Phantom Troupe murdered several years ago! Kurapika is the last member, the only one who escaped from the bloodbath!”

 

Silva seemed to be bothered by Leorio’s behavior, yet, he remained silent, and just checked Netero’s face. The police chief was deep in his thoughts, gazing at Kurapika’s picture, tapping his chin. He finally sighed and looked back at Leorio.

 

“That doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would Chrollo set a trap to reach Kurapika, and then just take him away? How did Kurapika end up in this situation?”

 

And then, Leorio decided to break the rules. Suddenly aware of the atrocity of the situation, he told them everything: from the fact that he had proposed to Kurapika to write a daily diary and that the young man had choose to publish it online and all the way to Kurapika meeting several people online until he had been contacted by a mysterious user named Reversed Cross with whom he had developed a profound bound with. Of course, Leorio couldn’t pass up the fact that Kurapika had eventually fallen in love with the stranger, unknowing that he was the leader of the Phantom Troupe, and that he had certainly agreed to meet him, leading to his disparition. Leorio felt even more guilty after his statement, aware that he was more than responsible for Kurapika’s disappearance. He should have been more careful and more present for the fragile young boy because he was the very one who had given him the idea to write a diary in the first place. Leorio bit his bottom lip, feeling for the first time this lead blanket on his shoulder.

 

“I may have a plan…,” Silva stated, gazing at Netero with a concerned look. “But, it’s risky.”

 

Netero furrowed his eyebrows, until he was finally hit with the meaning of Silva’s words. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“No…No! I can’t allow that Silva!”

 

“I know it’s outside your rules, but he owes me one and I can use it to catch Chrollo for good,” Silva whispered as he stood back up, visibly excited to find the Troupe’s leader. “Isaac, we’ve worked together many times. You know Chrollo isn’t a regular player! We need to play his game if we want to win.”

 

Netero gazed at Silva, anger evident. His eyes traveled from Silva’s face to Leorio’s. Leorio didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed that he would be a part of it, even if he wanted to be out of their business. Eventually, Netero nodded slowly, collecting the pictures on the table.

 

“Fine. You should probably call your son then.”

 

* * *

 

After a good night’s sleep in Chrollo’s arms, Kurapika felt safer and more relaxed than the previous days. Somehow, it had appeased him to spend the entire night with Chrollo, sometimes feeling the man’s breath against his neck, and his arm gently wrapped around his waist, as he was here to protect him from everything. Yet, the morning had been a little more harsh than he would have liked though, simply because Chrollo had already left the bed, like he always did, to handle Troupe business. Kurapika had showered, his mind deeply troubled by what happened last night. He had rejected Chrollo, but this time, he had asked him to stay by his side, unable to spend one more night without him. The more time passed, the more he couldn’t be away from him. He needed him more than anything because Chrollo was his strength and his only way to be appeased at last. He knew that his mind was playing with him, that it wasn’t a natural feeling, or maybe it was, and his body and heart were slowly betraying him, and this situation would be even worse.

 

Everything was blurry for Kurapika; he couldn’t tell what was right and what was wrong anymore . His life was complete nonsense, starting with his family’s death, then his ghost life in Yorknew City, and finally his strange meeting with Chrollo. He still didn’t know why Chrollo had decided to take him away. Maybe the others were right about him, maybe Chrollo was seeing him as just a toy, and soon, he would certainly get tired of him. And then, just like that, Kurapika understood that his days were numbered. Soon, he would be a real ghost, when Chrollo would finally decide to kill him for good, it was simply a matter of time. But, what Kurapika didn’t know was that things were about to get worse than before, and this particular day would be the end of an era. Somehow, he already felt that something was wrong, and a new kind of anxiety was slowly building up inside his chest, keeping him unsure and nauseous. There was a strange atmosphere inside the house, heavy and dangerous, like something was about to happen. Kurapika thought that it was simply because Chrollo and the rest of the Troupe’s members had came back the previous day, yet, somehow, the feeling wouldn’t disappear. Everything was about to change when Kurapika heard his name being called out from downstairs. Scared, he timidly walked to the stairs.

 

“Kurapika!” Chrollo called him once again. “Come here.”

 

Yet, everything in Kurapika was yelling him to not go. He didn’t want to know what Chrollo would say, but his legs betrayed him, and curiosity won against his will. Carefully, he went down the stairs, breathing heavily as he was about to come into the living room for the very first time in his life. He had always preferred the second floor since he had came into the mansion. Now, he was wandering inside a new territory and this one seemed to be hostile and deadly. And as soon as he saw the entire Phantom Troupe sitting on three big couches arranged in a U-form, Chrollo presiding over the audience while he was on the armchair facing all of them, Kurapika felt the urge to run. Yet, his legs couldn’t move any further. Paralyzed, he stopped at the end of the stairs, staring at each member of the Troupe, before his eyes met Chrollo’s. There was something intimidating inside his gaze, like he was able to go through Kurapika’s features and understand every single thought. It wasn’t the Chrollo he knew inside the bedroom they shared, certainly not. There, sitting in front of his subjects like a king in front of his court, he was the demon Kurapika had always feared.

 

“Thanks for coming. Have a seat with us,” Chrollo said, his voice neutral and yet frightening, his eyes locked onto Kurapika’s desperate face.

 

There were some giggles between the members, but Kurapika was too afraid to look where they were coming from. Slowly, as his legs quivered every time he put his feet onto the floor, he walked to the first couch and grabbed the top of it, digging his fingers inside the material to feel that he wasn’t dreaming. He had never been so close to all the members at the same time, and somehow, he had the terrible sensation of being the poor lost animal in front of the biggest and baddest wolves ever. And Chrollo never looked away, capturing every movement and every step, somehow enjoying Kurapika’s fear and submission. Finally, Phinks stood back up and caught Kurapika’s arm before he dragged him to reach a seat. The young man was repulsed by the gesture, yet, he didn’t protest, preferring to remain silent as he sat quietly. Chrollo didn’t offer any smile, but he eventually looked away.

 

“Now that he’s here, what’s the topic, Feitan?” Chrollo asked, leaning back into the upholstery  as he looked at the man.

 

Feitan nodded and put a map on display onto the coffee table, in the center of the three couches. Chrollo let loose a little smirk, visibly satisfied.

 

“Yorknew?” he said as he looked at the map. “I almost forgot that it was that time of the year.”

 

Kurapika didn’t show anything, but hearing the name of his former city was truly painful for him. He clenched his fists onto his lap and waited until the Phantom Troupe’s plan was finally revealed. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t take too long.

 

“This year it will be on January 9th, approximately one month to go, and as always, many hotels will be required to hold the sales. Shalnark did some research and it seems that there’s no interesting pieces until the last auction sales at the end of the event,” Feitan exposed, as he looked at the members, who were really appealed by the new plan. “But, we may have a problem because of the localization.” He pointed at a building drawn onto the map. “The last sales will be held in the Bayloke Hotel and we know for sure that the security is pretty tight there. Not a big deal, though, but quite annoying. We need to be careful.”

 

“We already made it,” Machi said, playing with her needles and thread as she avoided Hisoka’s admiring face. “It’s not the first time we’ve robbed something in Yorknew.”

 

“But Feitan is right, we need to be careful,” Nobunaga agreed, as he traced the map with his thin fingers. He pointed at something in particular; Kurapika recognized the Yorknew Museum. “Since we’ve stolen Meruem’s jewels last year, they expect us to come back again, and what a perfect occasion for us to make a comeback at the world's biggest auction. We’re pretty predictable.”

 

“Shalnark?” Chrollo summoned, as the blond was already checking something on his phone.

 

“Yup, it’s true. When I look for Phantom Troupe and auctions combined with Yorknew City I can tell you that they already fear our arrival!”

 

The exchanges were smooth, casual, like they were planning something different than their biggest robbery after many years. They all knew their places, and they all knew which one could bring the perfect answer to every question. It was a deadly dance between them, like old folks trying to solve an impossible problem, already knowing the solution, bored because the game was already settled. Kurapika couldn’t help but listen to every statement, trying to understand every character, like if a painting was displayed in front of him and he was able to catch every detail. He almost forgot that he wasn’t a part of them, that he was unwelcome. But soon, the reality would punch him right in the face.

 

“So, we all agree that we need to be all together there? We need all our strengths, right?” Phinks asked loudly, his face serious and his eyebrows furrowed.

 

The room went silent, and all eyes were on Chrollo. Hisoka started to giggle a little as he looked at Kurapika with his yellow, deadly stare. There was something morbid about his attitude, like he already understood what would come next.

 

“Yes, I do agree,” Chrollo finally said, tickling his head a little, curious to know what Phinks would say next. “Why do you ask that?”

 

Phinks stood back up and looked at them, deadly serious, his expression almost threatening.

 

“I require a vote right now.” And slowly, he spun towards him, after he had looked at every of them, until his blue eyes dug inside Kurapika’s. “I want a vote to kill Kurapika. Because if the entire crew has to leave for Yorknew, he needs to die. He knows too much, we can’t take the risk.”

 

Kurapika felt his heart drop inside his chest as his stomach wrenched painfully. He wished he dreamed what he had heard, but he knew that this was reality. He breathed erratically as his gaze met Chrollo’s, hoping his lover would find a way out. He was shaking on the couch, as he felt like an ant ready to be crunched into the ground. He was cold, and he was hot, every sensation mixed into a painful agony, as time itself seemed to stop for good. He hadn’t seen that coming. For a moment, he had had the sensation that he had stopped running from his fears, that there was a chance, a light for him at the end of the tunnel. But, there was no salvation for him. His life was nothing but a vote.

 

“It seems fair,” Chrollo answered as he nodded to Phinks, breaking his hope. “And before we begin, let me remind you the rules: it must be impartial, with arguments, or the vote is rejected. As we need a odd number to decide, and as we are thirteen including me, I’ll join the vote. One last thing, the defeated shall respect the decision of the majority, no matter what. Agreed?” And, they all approved with a gesture of the head.

 

Every word felt like a punch to Kurapika’s stomach. He wanted to cry, to run, it was more than needed. He had to be far away from them, because he couldn’t handle it anymore. So, like a puppet, he started to stand back up, not knowing if he could make it to the stairs. Yet, Chrollo was watching him, patiently, as he invited Kurapika to stay put with a gesture of his hand.

 

“You stay here,” Chrollo ordered, his voice cold and imperious. “You can’t leave the room in the middle of the Troupe’s meeting.” He sounded sure of himself, yet tender. “Even when it’s about your life,” he added, making Kurapika almost ill.

 

Kurapika froze as his legs couldn’t support him anymore. Who was this monster in front him? Where was the man he thought he had seen during those days? There were no signs of him, like he had never existed in the first place. Chrollo was the Spider’s head, the villainous man who had ordered his family’s death, and no more. How could he had been so childish? How could he had hoped for a kind man behind a cold mask? He had always been this dangerous creature, this careless demon who could vote about someone’s final issue. And, he had to witness it. _Until the very end_. Kurapika sat back onto the couch, blank like his life was already gone.

 

“I start,” Phinks decided as he was visibly satisfied, a joyful smirk plastered onto his lips. “Death. Because he’s a threat and we can’t take the risk to leave him alone. He’ll run away, and I’m pretty he’ll survive as the cockroach he is. We need to protect the Troupe.”

 

Chrollo nodded and looked at Hisoka who was sitting next Phinks. The clown was playing with two cards, switching them inside his hands, showing a false boring face.

 

“I’ll pass for now, I haven’t decided yet~.”

 

Kurapika could almost feel his heart skipping a beat any time Chrollo’s eyes wondered around the different faces, showing nothing but calm and satisfaction. There was no sign of mercy inside his features, and even when Kurapika was about to faint, weak in his seat, Chrollo wouldn’t say a thing. It was Nobunaga’s turn, and the samourai man was still deep in his thoughts. He was fondling his long and braided thin beard, his eyes locked onto the ground, before he took a deep breath and looked at the others.

 

“Death. I agree with Phinks; we don’t need one more threat around us.”

 

“And, I choose live,” Machi suddenly said, giving one of those terrible gaze someone would only reserve for an enemy, even if it was Nobunaga. “Because it’s Chrollo’s business and I don’t cross his territory. We don’t have lawfulness to chose for the boss.”

 

“Live as well,” Pakunoda nodded, looking at Kurapika who was shivering from his feet to his head. “Even if he’d escape, he’s a loner. We all read his online blog, he had a difficult time to find a professional who would actually believe him. He won’t bother us, he’s not that dangerous for us. And I don’t think he’ll try to escape, he’s too afraid to do anything.”

 

Hisoka giggled, unable to hide his excitement from the others. Kurapika felt dizzy and nauseous: his head on fire, his vision blurry, and his stomach wrenching painfully as if he was about to throw up onto the floor. The more they talked, the more he understood how pitiful he was. They were speaking like he wasn’t in the room, a ghost watching them from far away, trapped inside his merciless world, swinging at the edge of the void. And Kurapika saw it, like a terrible reminder, Chrollo counting with his fingers, right hand for death, left hand for live. He was the perfect master of Hell, his grey eyes brushing those different faces, a little smile at the corner of his mouth, as he remained silent, patient like a gargoyle, watching his people debating like they were gods on Earth. It was a disgusting show, where the poor player couldn’t win, because his destiny wasn’t even in his hands.

 

“I’d like to speak,” Shalnark finally asked, as he put his phone onto his lap and waited for Chrollo’s approbation. As soon as the boss watched him, he smiled warmly at him. Kurapika could almost forget how merciless he could be. He looked like a child waiting to show his new drawing to his parents, yet, Shalnark was a part of them, a part of the deadly show. “I heard Pakunoda and Machi’s arguments, but I can’t agree with them. I think we should kill Kurapika before it’s too late. He’s a like a bomb ready to explode, and I don’t want to be around when he’s gonna blow. Sooner or later we’ll be in trouble, and I’m not a partisan to play with fire.”

 

Uvogin burst into a sadistic laugh before he clapped his hands and nodded fervently. Kurapika felt his blood freeze inside his veins, as soon as he remembered that terrible night when his family had been murdered. He had heard this laugh before, and he had never forgotten it. It had often spawned into his mind when he had tried to recover from his loss. It was the most cruel thing he had ever heard. He didn’t know how he managed to not puke onto his thighs.

 

“Death for me!” Uvogin claimed as he took a beer off the coffee table and opened it. “I remember Danchou’s orders back then. _Kill them all_.” He swallowed the whole can in one shot and crushed the metal inside his massive hands. “And, as I see there’s still one left...We have unfinished business under our own roof, boss. ”

 

Kurapika noticed it, anger inside Chrollo’s eyes, just a sparkle of it, like a shadow crossing through his face. Yet, the man didn’t try to protest, he simply lifted one more finger onto his right hand. One more for the death votes.

 

“Before we get back to the others, I’d like to hear Danchou’s voice~,” Hisoka proposed, as innocently as he could, yet his yellow eyes were sparkling, awakened by his excitement.

 

Chrollo looked at the clown, remaining silent, as no one could read his features. Some of his fingers were still lifted, as the others were down, waiting to be called for the vote. Kurapika couldn’t help but quiver, waiting for Chrollo to make a decision. Finally, he met his gaze, and the sudden contact was almost unbearable. It was like Chrollo was about to dig inside his head, and revealed all his deep dark secrets. Even if Kurapika wouldn’t accept it, he knew how Chrollo was able to understand every single of his feelings.

 

“Live,” Chrollo whispered, watching the small lonely tear rolling down Kurapika’s cheek. “Because every time I see him, I remember that we let our anger and our bitterness win over our reflection that night.” Yet, his gaze became darker as he looked at Uvogin. “And because I’d like to think I can be merciful when I need to be, and reckless when times require it.” And, there was one more finger lifted onto his left hand.

 

“Then, don’t be merciful this time,” Feitan answered, as he stood back up and clenched his fist. “Because it’s time to be reckless. We’ve never known mercy before and we have nothing to learn from it. He should die.”

 

Five for death, three for live. Kurapika knew he should accept his destiny. Franklin chose to vote for death as well, referring to Feitan’s arguments, and somehow, Kurapika understood he couldn’t do anything anymore. After all, if Chrollo wanted him to be alive, or to save him, he would have done something to skip the vote. Yet, Chrollo had played the game, unable to hide how he enjoyed the power he had over Kurapika since the very beginning. It was a terrible reality, to know that his fate hadn’t been in his hands for almost a year. He cursed himself, because he had truly believed that there was something behind the mask, something he could accept and maybe respect in the end. And as Kurapika gave up on his hopes, ready to be killed by one of them, unexpectedly, Shizuku, Kortopi and Bonolenov had voted for him to live. They weren’t interested into Kurapika’s life and choices, and as Pakunoda had already shared it, they all thought that the boy was a loner and not a threat to the Troupe. It was a perfect equality. And the very one who would have to decide was the most unpredictable member of the Troupe: _Hisoka_.

 

“Well, well, well,” he exaggeratedly uttered, patting his thigh with his thumb, enjoying the hostility inside the room. “I guess I’m the one who will bring the answer to this boy’s fate.”

 

His yellow eyes travelled through the room, until he met Kurapika’s gaze, and smirked, without hiding how thrilled he was. It was frightening; he was almost turned on by the situation.

 

“Don’t be a dick, would you?” Uvogin snapped as he looked aggressively at the clown, eyebrows furrowed. “You wanted to be the last to choose, we all get it.”

 

“And, I’m more than charmed you all let me have the last word, then.” He winked before he focused on Chrollo. “What should I choose, boss? What do you want to do with this boy? Do you really need a pitiful pet to play with? He’s not worthy…This… _thing_ is already half terrified and half useless. It’s boring. You broke your toy a long time ago.”

 

Kurapika swallowed his spit, harshly, feeling the animosity emanating from Hisoka. He knew the clown didn’t like him, but there was a coldness inside his voice that the others hadn’t had. As the members had chosen for the Troupe’s interests, Hisoka’s choice already seemed to be personal.

 

“It’s your call,” Chrollo eventually said, his voice visibly flirty, playing with a strand of his raven-hair. “You have the last word in this story. Do whatever you want, Hisoka.”

 

“Then I choose…,” he started before he stopped, patting his bottom lip with his finger, enjoying Chrollo’s look on him. They were playing a strange game and Kurapika didn’t like it. It wasn’t only because his life lay on the knife’s edge, it was also jealousy. He hated how Chrollo was seducing Hisoka; he wanted to be the only one to receive the man’s favors. Yet, Kurapika was ready to hear the words from Hisoka. He had accepted his fate and he was aware that he had lost.

 

“ _Live_.”

 

Kurapika almost fainted, as time seemed to slow down around him. He looked at Hisoka, eyes wide open, shocked. “Live because I want to know if his anger will fade one day. I want to know what he will choose between revenge or submission, even if I already have my little idea. I want to see him becoming the ghost he’s afraid of, until Danchou here will have burnt his entire soul, for finally abandoning him like the pet he is.” Hisoka smiled to Kurapika, leaning closer, as the rest of his sentence became a whisper. “I can’t wait to see that Kurapika.”

 

Eight to seven, live won unexpectedly. But before Kurapika could hear the rest of the meeting, he stood back up, his fist clenched so firmly that it was blank and shaky. His heart was throbbing inside his chest, furiously, as he looked at every one of them, like he wanted to print their faces at this particular moment, already knowing he wouldn’t forget or forgive, even those who had voted for him to live. He thought he knew what anger was, yet, he understood today that he had never felt it before. It was an atrocious feeling, burning inside his core as he almost felt the pain, shivering from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He had never hated so much. He didn’t care anymore about Chrollo’s orders, so he turned around, and walked out of the sofas’ circle to leave the room. If one of them would pursue him to kill him, he didn’t care anymore. He wanted this nightmare to end forever. He almost ran into the stairs, his fist still like a ball ready to hit something, as he quickly reached the room he shared with Chrollo. He slammed the door behind him, and put his hands inside his hair, pulling on the strands as he was sobbing and yelling at the same time. What he was living now, he wasn’t prepared for it. He thought that he should have thrown himself out of the window a long time ago, because this torture was unbearable. Spit, sweat, and tears were mixed together onto his face, as fear and anger continued to dance inside his mind, reminding him that he was more than ever in danger. But, those feelings left him as soon as Chrollo entered the room.

 

“Get the fuck out of here…,” Kurapika whispered angrily, his eyes with a ravenous fire in them, as he gazed at the man in front of him like he could kill him with them. “I’m notfucking kidding right now. Get the fuck out!”

 

Chrollo didn’t answer, or smile, like he used to do every time Kurapika was rude or angry, whenever his feelings were exposed to him. This time, he walked slowly, like a predator, as his eyes remained cold and calculating, showing that he wasn’t joke this time. Kurapika couldn’t help but go backward, both because he didn’t want any contact with the man and of course, because Chrollo was terrifying. _Gorgeously terrifying_. He had let his hair down, like he liked to do, whenever he was home, and his torso was bare under his dark coat, where a reversed crossed had been embroidered with golden thread in the back. He was like the creature Kurapika had always admired, even if he had tried to ignore it so many times, during those days where he couldn’t help but enjoy his perfect charisma. And soon enough, Chrollo was in front of him, and Kurapika couldn’t run anywhere, like he had been attracted by a magnet. Yet this time, anger took control.

 

As he couldn’t control himself anymore, his hand lifted up and crushed itself onto Chrollo’s face, so abruptly that the man almost lost his balance. The violence of the hit left Kurapika dizzy as his fist was pulsing furiously, the skin already red and bloody here and there; the blow had been powerful. Chrollo looked back at him, both furious and taken aback, as he wiped the blood coming from his split lip. Kurapika didn’t hesitate; he couldn’t anymore. Once again, he jumped forward, animating with something new inside of him. He needed to express himself, to let all his anger evacuate himself, after all those months of frustration. He hated Chrollo so much, he had wanted to kill him every time he had crossed his road, every time they had had sex, and every time he had kissed him. He expressed it inside every single punch, allowed himself to yell as his fists’ skin was wounded. Chrollo, however, didn’t fight back. At first, Kurapika had thought that it was another way to humiliate him, to show him that he wasn’t hurt, that Kurapika wasn’t strong enough. Yet, the more he punched him, the more he wanted him to answer back.

 

“Why don’t you fucking do anything, huh?” Kurapika yelled, blood covering his shirt as his fists were shaking. “Why don’t you fight you fucking bastard?” He grabbed Chrollo by his white coat’s collar, crumpling the material inside his wounded hands, while he understood at the same moment that he had no strength anymore. He pushed Chrollo backward and tripped on the floor, his knees meeting the cold tiles. He was in tears, his chest rising up harshly every time he tried to breath. “You fucking bastard…You fucking vote for my life! I should punch your face until you fucking die, you bitch!”

 

At first, Chrollo didn’t answer, but it seemed that seeing Kurapika was something he couldn’t handle anymore. So, he made an unexpected move and came closer, knees onto the floor, as he grabbed Kurapika by his shirt and dragged him against him until their chests met. His face was serious, his eyebrows gathered, and he didn’t let his grip loosen from Kurapika. Kurapika tried to fight back, but he couldn’t anymore; he had given everything the minutes before. Chrollo circled his jaw with his fingers, crushing the skin inside them, his eyes locked into Kurapika’s. The blond was furious, yet, he couldn’t help but feel appeased: he had been able to express what he had always wanted, and it had released him from an everlasting guilt.

 

“Are you done?” Chrollo teased, while he used his free hand to wipe more blood coming from his features. “That’s all you have you damn kid?”

 

“Fuck you!” Kurapika shouted while he grabbed Chrollo’s hand onto his face and dug his fingernails inside them. It was almost erotic, the way they were both testing each other. They both felt it: that undeniable need to be close.

 

A smirk grew onto Chrollo’s lips as he leaned closer, stood back up, and pinned Kurapika to the wall behind him. With his thumb, he slowly fondled Kurapika’s upper lip, until he shamelessly dug it inside his mouth. And somehow, Kurapika didn’t protest. He even let Chrollo brush his skin, looking at him directly into his eyes, as he felt aroused. There was no more anger between them, or at least, it had evolved into something different.

 

“It doesn’t work this way…,” Chrollo whispered as he came closer until he pushed one thigh against Kurapika’s arousal. “I’m the one who’s fucking you here.”

 

Kurapika’s breath became shorter as Chrollo’s finger pushed inside his mouth and played with his tongue, until Kurapika started to wrap it around his hot skin, like he would do with his arousal. Chrollo kept smirking, sometimes biting his bottom lip as he leaned his face closer, eventually pulling his thumb back to crush his lips against Kurapika’s. The blond couldn’t understand why the situation had changed like that, yet, he knew that he wanted Chrollo’s touch so bad at the moment, like his life depended on it. Chrollo had just played with his life earlier, and here he was, moaning against his lips, his tongue inside his mouth to dance with his, aroused and excited like he had never been before. However, Chrollo broke the contact, playful and smirking. He brushed Kurapika’s cheek and put his mouth near his ear to suck on his flesh.

 

“You still want to punch me, Kurapika?” he whispered as his hand fondled his chest, going down until he caressed his trapped arousal. “Or do you prefer when I fuck you until you moan my name?”

 

“You’re just a fucking monster…,” Kurapika answered harshly as he closed his eyes, already gone. Chrollo had won, even more, Kurapika _wanted_ him to win. He would do anything to feel the man’s touch. And as a reward, he suddenly felt Chrollo’s mouth mapping his neck until he leaned just above his mouth.

 

“I’m the monster you want, right?” Chrollo murmured, just before he kissed the boy fervently.

 

Kurapika lost himself in the messy kiss, angling his head to perfectly feel every gesture from Chrollo, from his thigh crushed against his already hard arousal to his hands travelling through his body, worshipping every single part of his skin. Kurapika lost it, but he wanted it so much, like his entire body was already on fire. He put his fingers inside Chrollo’s hair, as soon as the man grabbed his ass to lift him, and carry him until they crashed onto the desk. There, Chrollo started to undress Kurapika, throwing away his stained-shirt to the floor, as he was already fondling his chest, their crotches pushed together. Kurapika imitated Chrollo’s gesture, and soon enough, Chrollo lost his coat to the floor as well, before they continued their passionate kiss. Their anger gone for good, leaving them impatient and aroused. Finally, Chrollo left his mouth and travelled down Kurapika’s face until he reached his neck and marked him, but more violently than usual, his teeth biting the flesh shamelessly. Kurapika let go of Chrollo’s hair and let his fingers run down onto his back, as he scratched it, making Chrollo moan for him.

 

“Tst,” Kurapika cursed, while Chrollo met his gaze. “You’re pathetic, being aroused just because I hurt y-Hey!”

 

Deciding to take the control, Chrollo had turned Kurapika over onto the desk, so unexpectedly that he was now facing the wall in front of him, his arms laid onto the table. Chrollo grabbed him by the hips, and pushed his own forward, still dressed, letting him know just how hard and excited he was. It was also a way to provoke Kurapika, and he didn’t miss it. He freed himself from his lover’s grip and spun to face Chrollo, pushing him away violently before he slapped him without any hesitation. But instead of being furious, Chrollo’s smirk grew bigger onto his lips, almost dangerously. Kurapika, however, found out how pleasant this new game was. He loved this kind of new hate between them, something swinging between possessive behavior and jealousy. And, it made him remember how he had hated when Chrollo had flirted with the clown earlier. He furrowed his eyebrows, heaving himself from the desk to walk closer, slowly, his fist once again clenched, ready to hit.

 

“Do you fuck him too?” he suddenly snapped, jealous. Chrollo slowly walked backward, his playful smile still plastered onto his features. “Answer me!”

 

“Fuck who?” Chrollo asked innocently, as he sat at the edge of the bed, crawling backward, using his natural charm to attract Kurapika, hoping we would come to him.

 

And, he did. Shirtless, enraged, he crawled onto the bed, his eyes locked onto Chrollo’s. “Do you fuck that clown?”

 

Chrollo bit his bottom lip, now that Kurapika was between his legs, like a lion ready to cut his throat. “What if I do fuck him too? What will you do then, kitten?”

 

Kurapika leaned closer, his face so close to Chrollo that he could feet his warm breath over his skin. He wanted to bit him, mark him until he was totally his. He couldn’t accept any other man inside Chrollo’s arms; it was unbearable. It was a twisted feeling, yet, he couldn’t help but be possessive and jealous. Chrollo was nothing good for him, but he wouldn’t share him with anyone. As Chrollo had stated several minutes ago, he was a monster, yet, he was his, and no one else’s. So, as a warning, Kurapika slammed the headboard behind his lover, near his cheek.

 

“I wouldn’t allow you to touch me anymore,” he answered, as he pressed his fingers against Chrollo’s trapped dick inside his pants. “I won’t suck your cock anymore, nor touch it. I won’t let you sleep with me. I’ll be untouchable.” And to make sure Chrollo had understood, he squeezed his arousal fervently.

 

“That’s not going to happen,” Chrollo answered, before he grabbed him by the hips and made him roll, until Kurapika’s back was onto the mattress, “Because you’re mine, as I’m yours.”

 

And before Kurapika could perfectly understand the meaning of his statement, Chrollo was already kissing him, his hands pushing his pants down as his breath was warm and erratic. Soon enough, Kurapika lost it, he moved his hips upward to help his lover’s gestures, finally naked. With a sloppy gesture, he also managed to pull Chrollo’s pants down, while the man circled his rock hard arousal and pumped it, slowly, to allow him to adjust. Kurapika moaned as soon as he felt Chrollo’s fingers, frustrated because his lover was laid between his legs, so he couldn’t reach his cock as well. Yet, it didn’t seem to bother Chrollo, because he jerked off Kurapika with an easy speed, his mouth occupied as he marked his inner thigh. Kurapika arched his back, leaving the mean world he was trapped in to another one, full of lust and pleasure. Chrollo was an expert, tender yet firm inside his gestures, so much so that Kurapika was already moaning, unable to stop himself.

 

“Mmm, I like that sound,” Chrollo hummed before his tongue played with his sack. “I’ll make you moan my name tonight, kitten. You need a punishment after all. You ruined my face.”

 

“Like…You…Didn’t deserve it,” Kurapika stuttered, his breath heavy and his body quivering under Chrollo’s touch.

 

The man pumped Kurapika’s cock harder, his pace settled and regular, leaving Kurapika sweaty but unable to reach orgasm. It was a sweet torture, his senses awakened, like a massive firework blowing up inside his belly. Yet, he knew he wanted more, he craved Chrollo’s fingers all over him. He wanted to be connected with him, strongly, sweetly, until their bodies would be as one. Chrollo moved upward and reached Kurapika’s mouth, enjoying the dying moans echoing inside his own, as he kissed him smoothly, like the old tender lover Kurapika had always known. Finally, Chrollo put his hand away, as he also did with his mouth, just before he placed his own arousal above Kurapika’s, and slang them together, several times, as he closed his eyes and kissed him back. Kurapika groaned, more excited than ever, slowly allowing himself to feel pleasure without guilt. He wrapped his legs around Chrollo’s waist, maintaining Chrollo’s place, as they kept thrusting against each other, filling the room with obscene noises. It was another game, the one they were always willing to play, to see who would be the first to beg for more. Usually, Kurapika lost every time, his inexperience leading him to a second state where Chrollo was his only redemption. Yet this time, he was thrilled to play the game, his eyes locked onto Chrollo’s, eyebrows furrowed and forehead covered with sweat.

 

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry…,” Chrollo whispered with difficulty, both of their dicks oozing with pre-cum. “I want…more.”

 

Kurapika couldn’t help but smirk, both because he had liked Chrollo’s statement, and of course, principally, because Chrollo had lost this time. So, without any hesitation, he extended his hand to reach the night table and opened the drawer jerkily. As he grabbed the tube of lubricant and a condom, Chrollo was already biting his neck, his hands playing with Kurapika’s nipples. It was hard to focus or think; Chrollo was a demon and it seemed he was everywhere, yet, Kurapika managed to put the lube and the condom onto the mattress, and Chrollo was already taking it. He quickly coated three of his fingers, before he slid his hand down to Kurapika’s crotch, teasing his entrance with the pressure of one of them. Kurapika’s head lolled backward, ready to reach the next level with Chrollo. He had missed the man so much. Finally, Chrollo pushed one finger in, and even if Kurapika could feel the pain, so tight after so many weeks apart, he enjoyed it to the core. He cried out, as soon as Chrollo slowly thrusted in him, his pace gentle and respectful, waiting for Kurapika to adjust himself to the intrusion. Their mouths found their way back together, their cries and moans muffled in their throats. Chrollo managed to push one more finger, and after Kurapika seemed to be comfortable enough, he added the third. The burning sensation inside his hole was nothing compared to the sweet and everlasting pleasure he felt at the moment. He moved his hips, while Chrollo settled a new pace, faster and deeper, his fingers scissoring inside Kurapika’s ass.

 

“God, I missed you…,” Kurapika whispered, his eyes closed as his mouth kissed Chrollo’s neck. He wouldn’t have said it before, but he needed Chrollo to know. Being apart had been a torture for Kurapika.

 

Chrollo snickered a little, leaving Kurapika panting, as he slowly pulled his fingers out of his ass, just before he grabbed the condom. “Where’s my angry kitten gone?” He opened the package with his teeth and put the condom onto the head of his hard swollen dick. Kurapika thought that he had never been so hot before. “I don’t know which one I prefer, really. The one who missed me…,” He rolled the condom down onto his length before he took Kurapika’s hips and pushed on them to make him roll, face against the mattress, “Or the one who can punch me until I bleed out.”

 

Kurapika was burning inside as he waited, his hands grabbing the pillows under his face. After he had punched his lover, somehow, he had craved Chrollo’s revenge. It was twisted, unconventional, but he couldn’t help it. He had been in charge during those few minutes where his anger had blinded him until he had became violent. And now, he wanted Chrollo to take the control back, and show him how he would answer to his previous behavior. And, Chrollo was already playing his part as he took the time to part his cheeks, sliding  his cock once or twice between them, enjoying the sweet torture before he would fuck him good. Once again, he added more lube onto his arousal, and eventually, softly teased his entrance with the head of his cock. Kurapika pressed his forehead onto his arm, his fingers digging into the sheets, until finally, Chrollo pushed his cock inside of him, inch by inch. Kurapika arched his back, and lifted his hips, overwhelmed between pain and pleasure. Chrollo fondled his back, and kissed it tenderly, waiting for Kurapika to perfectly adjust. After several seconds, Kurapika understood that this wasn’t something wanted right now: he was craving for something merciless.

 

“So what? You’re gonna be a fucking vanilla daddy now?” Kurapika teased, as he turned his head to look at Chrollo. “Should I ask one of your fucking slaves to fuck me properly? Ah!”

 

Chrollo’s hips had thrusted so hard that Kurapika almost hit the headboard, butterflies morphing over his vision. It was agonizing, yet, he felt a new form of pleasure, something he had waited for so long. He had always enjoyed rough sex with Chrollo, and it hadn’t happened that many times. Also, he was still pissed off because of the meeting before and he certainly didn’t want to “make love” with his lover at the moment. Chrollo thrusted deeply into him one more time, before he grabbed his hair and pulled on it, forcing Kurapika to lift his torso to follow the motion.

 

“Oh? You shut your cocky mouth now?” Chrollo whispered to his ear as he started to settle his pace, forcing his hips to hit hard onto Kurapika’s ass.

 

“That’s…All you…h...have?” Kurapika stuttered, between two moans, his eyes shut as he started to enjoy every hateful thrust inside of him.

 

Chrollo groaned before he caught Kurapika by his thighs, lifting him as he stayed inside of him, until Kurapika’s back crushed onto his torso. Chrollo spread his lover's legs a little bit more, using his knees’ strength to push deep inside of his prepared ass. With this new and unexpected angle, Kurapika couldn’t do anything except be under Chrollo’s control. Every thrust was deep, strong, and each time, Kurapika felt that Chrollo had found his prostate and abused it. He started to cry out, loudly, unable to hide the unbearable pleasure he was feeling, his legs quivering, toes curling as well. Chrollo moaned behind him, his teeth finding their way inside Kurapika’s neck, while he bit him fervently, leaving red and purple circles everywhere.

 

“Touch…Touch me!” Kurapika eventually begged, his cock so swollen that the head was all red, practically hurting him as it bumped against his stomach, oozing with pre-cum. He needed Chrollo’s motions to reach orgasm. “Please!”

 

“Are you begging me?” Chrollo smirked, increasing his pace, his hips moving erratically. “Because I’m not done with you, kitten.”

 

Chrollo decided to change their position; he put Kurapika’s thighs back onto the mattress and left several kisses over his shoulder. Then, he grabbed him by the neck and forced him to leave the bed and walk to the wall. He spread his legs with his feet, and without waiting any longer, he slid his cock back inside Kurapika’s ass, as he caught his arms and kept them against his back. In this position, Kurapika was once again totally under Chrollo’s control, and this particular angle was a world of pleasure, because every thrust had the power to hit his prostate deeply, making his legs quake. He put his forehead against the cool wall, his temples covered with sweat as his hair was plastered to his head. He loved it, how  merciless Chrollo was, how he controlled his entire body and feelings. And eventually, Chrollo reached his cock with his hand, circled it slowly, and started to pump it. This time, Kurapika knew that both of them were close to orgasm. He moaned deeply, eyes closed, his arms hurting him because Chrollo was pulling on them, his pace erratic and his thrusts strong and harsh. Kurapika felt him everywhere, from his hard arousal, to his hand touching him, and up to his warm breath over his shoulder. He lost it, second after second, his body suddenly tensed and overwhelmed. Finally, he felt his own cock swell under Chrollo’s gestures, until he reached orgasm and let loose. He could almost feel Chrollo’s smirk behind him, as he increased his pace one last time, until he was finally done, giving some last thrusts to ride out his orgasm. He let his grip fall from Kurapika’s arms, and Kurapika, exhausted like he had run a marathon, let himself slide against the wall and sat down onto the floor, breathing heavily. Chrollo imitated his gesture, sweating as well, his raven-hair plastered to his forehead. He took Kurapika by the waist, as he dropped several kisses onto his blond hair. They eventually intertwined their fingers.

 

“You know…,” Chrollo whispered, playing with Kurapika’s hair, so tenderly that he felt his eyelids becoming heavy. “I would have saved you.”

 

“What?” Kurapika asked, turning his gaze to see if Chrollo was serious. Chrollo offered him a wonderful and sincere smile.

 

“I would have found a way to save you,” Chrollo confirmed, before he cupped Kurapika’s jaw. “When it comes to the Troupe, I need to be impartial, because I’m their leader and they trust me, as I trust them. But when it comes to you, I can’t help it. I want to protect you no matter what.” He fondled Kurapika’s cheek with his thumb and kissed his forehead. “But you need to know that even if I may be their leader, I’m not the priority, but my orders are if it’s good for the Troupe. The Troupe needs to live, you know. I accepted the vote, because I need them to understand they still have their opinions.” He sighed, a strange smile crossing his face for the very first time, as he looked away. “I would have find a way…,” he repeated once again, mostly for himself than for Kurapika.

 

Kurapika felt his heart swell with an all new feeling. It seemed Chrollo had feared for his death, somehow. At least, that’s what he wanted to believe.

 

“I’m not sure I’m following you…,” Kurapika uttered softly, as he put his head against Chrollo’s shoulder, playing with the man’s fingers.

 

“Come with us to Yorknew City,” Chrollo eventually answered after a several seconds of silence, while he looked back at Kurapika. “Would you?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIT RIGHT? 
> 
> Thanks for the reading !


	3. He Who Laughs Last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I highly suggest you to pay attention to the dates: timeline might be tricky, I did my best to make everything clear, so don't hesitate to really take a loooong look at the different dates to not get lost !
> 
> Beta-ed by my lovely friend @SuperSaiyanHollow !
> 
> As always, thank you very much for your kudos and especially your comments: reading you is my fuel and it makes me want to continue! Seriously, just a "I like your story" makes my day every single time :D ! You're truly awesome ~
> 
>  

**_January 3rd, Yorknew City_ **

 

It was the time of the year when Yorknew City became a swarm, where many people came from many different places, thrilled, because all of them were about to enjoy one of the biggest events ever. They had crossed continents, they had bought their tickets sometimes ten months before the auction, as soon as they were sold on the Internet. Yorknew City would become the theater of many games. During that week, there would be a lots of different types of people. The ones who would be thrilled to catch the best deal, the ones who would double-cross the first ones, and of course, the last category, yet the most important: the ones who would rob them all. Of course, the first two categories didn’t know anything about the threat which was already hanging over them. If many of them had heard about the Phantom Troupe before, it seemed they had all forgotten about their existence, and the goal of getting richer or to delude people had erased their memories. Even the media had stopped writing frightening articles about the return of the deadliest Troupe ever, and somehow, the city was already more than excited.

 

Leorio was one of those people who weren’t really excited about the Yorknew auctions this year. And, he had many reasons. Firstly, because he worked at the main hospital center, and soon enough, there would be many new patients thanks to the booze, the violent street games, or simply because the auctions had the power to make a man crazy for money. Secondly, because as a doctor, even a psychiatrist, he would certainly have to help his colleagues during the emergencies, which meant he would have to deal with the people quoted earlier. And finally, but definitely not least, because Silva Zoldyck and Isaac Netero had let him know about their intention to catch the Phantom Troupe during the auction’s week. Leorio lived with the terrible sensation that something terrible would happen during the sales, and that he couldn’t do anything about it. He had tried to reach his former patient, Kurapika, many times on his cellphone, but it seemed that the mobile had been shut for good several months ago. It had haunted him, during one month, as soon as he had left the police building to go back to his office. He had even cancelled all his appointments that day, unable to face what he had heard inside that grey and unwelcomed room. A plan had been settled, something dangerous and tricky, but quite efficient if the police wanted to finally catch the Phantom Troupe. They had thought about everything, every little detail to attract the deadliest gang into the city. Of course, their conversation had mentioned Kurapika several times, yet, it wasn’t something about helping him getting out this situation, oh no. They both hoped that Kurapika would be the perfect bait for their design.

 

Bait…That’s what Kurapika had become after his disparition. Nothing but a weak individual, from Silva’s point of view, unable to escape from the Phantom Troupe, attached to their leader like his life depended on it, and no more. Leorio hated this. He had become a therapist because he had always had this profound and passionate love for people in general, and he had wanted to reach them, at all costs, inside those terrible corners they were trapped in. He had chosen this job because he had always known that it wasn’t an easy path, and yet, he had never regretted it. But now, he felt like a traitor, because the very person he had liked far beyond a patient-doctor relationship, as a very true friend, was about to be the police’s bait and it reminded him of how he had failed him.

 

Furious, and desperate, somehow, Leorio had tried everything to reach Kurapika. He had even sent him several text message on his blog, hoping that one day, he would finally see it before it would be too late. But now that the auctions were about to begin, hope seemed to be lost forever.

 

**December 14th**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Kurapika, it’s Leorio. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see my message, but please, avoid Yorknew City at all costs, especially during the auctions…I know who you are with, I’m here to help. Please contact me as soon as you receive this message.

 

**December 19th**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Kurapika, please don’t go to Yorknew City during the auctions!

 

**December 24th**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Please, Kurapika, check your messages…I don’t know what to do anymore.

 

**January 2nd**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** I’ll do my best to protect you…Avoid Yorknew on Friday night… Police are looking for you as well…

 

    * **_Red Eyes is now disconnected_**



 

  * __53 weeks ago__



 

 

“For fuck’s sake Kurapika, I hope you won’t show up…,” the therapist whispered, his eyes locked onto his computer screen. He knew there wasn’t any hope anymore.

 

He disconnected himself from the website and decided to focus on his schedule, because even if Kurapika was still in danger, he needed to think about his other patients. He still was their therapist, and he owed it to them to be the best he could, so he had to clear his mind from all his worries and keep going with his daily tasks. As he took a look at the January 3rd’s page, he noticed that his secretary had put someone new onto his schedule, and that this person would show up anytime now. He brushed the name with his fingers, eyebrows furrowed, somehow intrigued by this new patient. He had always decided who he wanted to meet and he had always hated when Bisky added another name without his consent. He had argued with her several times until she had understood and hadn’t done it anymore, preferring a healthy relationship with his boss; Leorio was one of those who could get pissed off really easily. Yet, sometimes, she would add another patient because of the hospital director’s demands and Leorio had to deal with it, no matter what. Still wondering, the therapist heard a knock on his door.

 

“Come in,” he called as he stood up and brushed his dark blue tuxedo to prevent any crumpling. He looked at the man who came in and widened his eyes as soon as he saw a pink-haired clown with makeup all over his face, a pink tear covering his left cheek and a yellow star on the other one. “Welcome…” He took his agenda back before he would pronounce the name. “Hisoka Morow, right?”

 

“Hello doctor~,” the new patient greeted him as he came forward to shake his hand. He was strong, his arms were developed and muscular, and somehow, it made Leorio a little bit uncomfortable. Even if the man looked like a clown from a freak show, there was something frightening about his gestures.

 

“Mh, have a seat please,” Leorio proposed as he went back behind his desk. Normally, he would have asked for the patient to lay down on the couch, as he would be sat in the guest chair. Yet this time, he wanted to keep his distance.

 

Hisoka smiled widely, grabbing the top of the guest’s chair and sitting softly, crossing his legs as he took his time to analyze the therapist. Leorio knew it to his core; this patient was truly dangerous. Animality was spread all over his fake refined features and an appetite for games and certainly horrible things could be read inside his piercing yellow eyes. Somehow, Leorio was sure this man had already killed in his lifetime, and he wouldn’t be shocked to hear dementia confessions about it. He didn’t know who had recommended Hisoka Morow to his patient’s list, but it was certainly not a friend. However, Leorio had a gift to hide his deep feelings, so he easily managed to look quite and relax, even if his heartbeat had furiously increased since Hisoka had entered the room. As nothing was more reassuring than routine, he opened his desk’s drawer and pulled out a new file as he labeled it with Hisoka’s name.

 

“Okay, there we go,” Leorio said softly because he was afraid his voice would be shaky if he tried to speak too loudly. He looked over his glasses, yellow eyes still piercing through his every move. “So, as your new therapist, I offer to introduce myself first, and then you can build on your own presentation, okay?”

 

Hisoka’s mysterious smile widened onto his lips as he tilted his head a little. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, as he invited Leorio to speak with a gesture of his hand.

 

“I’m Leorio Paladiknight, therapist for five years now. I won’t talk about my hobbies, but more what I’m able to provide you here,” he said automatically, knowing that every line of his speech was a lie when it applied to a threat like Hisoka. “I’m here to make you feel safe, unjudged. I won’t prescribe you pills to make you sleep, and I won’t concede to your whims easily. I have tough reputation and it suits me perfectly.” Leorio looked right into Hisoka’s eyes, somehow pressing down onto his statement to make sure that the clown would understand every portion. “Also, I want total honesty between us, no lies are allowed here. If you are here, it’s because you have problems to solve, and you should know that I’m an expert in behavioralism. If you lie, I’ll know it.”

 

Hisoka’s eyes seemed to sparkle a little as he religiously listened to Leorio’s speech. It seemed he could understand every nuance of the therapist’s statement, and even if he played the game, he should understand that Leorio already knew he was a fraud. In fact, Hisoka had pushed Illumi to convince his father to force Leorio to add him onto his busy schedule. He wanted to meet Kurapika’s therapist, and as an impulsive player, he couldn’t help but tease the doctor. He didn’t care about the therapy, his world was perfect, from his tricks to his violence, and nothing needed to be fixed inside of him, at least from his point of view. But seeing Leorio struggling to keep a neutral face was far beyond his hopes. Hisoka put his forearms onto the desk, in order to lean closer, as he dug his yellow eyes inside Leorio’s gaze.

 

“I think we’re going to get along, doctor,” he assured, his voice calm and warm, yet unable to hide his excitement. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you will be able to help me with… _my problem_.”

 

Leolio averted his gaze and roughly swallowed down his spit. He didn’t know why, but it seemed that Hisoka had just tried to make him understand something.

 

“Why would you think that?” Leorio answered back, somehow a little bit more aggressively than he should. He was really tense.

 

Hisoka exaggeratedly sighed as he played with his earring, offering a weird show to the therapist. Yet, his mysterious smile didn’t leave his face, until he finally looked back at Leorio.

 

“My boss has very…controversial goals,” Hisoka started, carefully picking his words. “I admire him because he’s intelligent, cunning, and fearless. I like it.”

 

Leorio wrote down Hisoka’s sentence, furrowing his eyebrows as he asked his first question. “So, you have a huge admiration for your boss… Did he disappoint you, somehow?”

 

“You don’t want to ask me what my job is first, doctor~?” Hisoka teased, a vicious smirk plastered onto his thin lips.

 

“I’d rather not, in fact,” Leorio snapped back as he put his pen down. Aware that he had sounded rude, he offered a gentle smile. “I mean, that’s not the point of your situation. I don’t need to know your job, it won’t help for the rest. So, once again, did your boss disappoint you, somehow?”

 

There was a light inside Hisoka’s eyes, something malicious. Even the atmosphere had changed, just before Leorio had finished his statement. It seemed to bother the clown, that the therapist wouldn’t play his game by his rules. Leorio felt insecure, as he couldn’t bare Hisoka’s stare any longer. He told himself, once again, that the person who had referred him to this man wasn’t his friend at all. He even started to fear for his life, as he tried to stay calm and emotionless. He couldn’t let know the clown that he was actually _truly_ scared.

 

“Oh yes, he did,” Hisoka finally answered, his tone was much colder than before. He took some cards out of his pocket and played with them, distractedly. “My boss brought a pet to our job. _An annoying, crying wounded dog_.” He flipped two cards inside his hand, his nails scratching over the paper. “See, no one wanted this pet in the first place, but my boss had pity for him, and pity doesn’t suit him at all. We had a vote, a serious one, about what we would do about the dog because we soon have to leave for another location. Unfortunately for us, the dog stays.”

 

Leorio was breathing heavily as he listened to Hisoka. He was in a deep struggle because he knew that the story was true, there were no lies or emotions inside Hisoka’s voice, and yet,  he was missing something. A detail he couldn’t catch, and which gave him shivers.

 

“So...you...voted for the dog to leave, right?” Leolio tried to ask, uneasily. He feared they were talking about something other than an animal at the moment.

 

Hisoka giggled and put a jack onto the desk. “Oh no, I didn’t.” He added a king next to the jack. “In fact, thanks to my vote, our pet is staying with us.” He brushed the jack card and then put the king above it. “I did it because I know that one day, the dog will die. Either by my boss’ hand, or because he would be too wounded to stay alive.” Hisoka stared right into Leorio’s eyes. “I believe that dog’s fate has already been settled anyway.”

 

Leorio couldn’t move anymore as he felt his heartbeat dangerously increase inside his chest. He had never felt so tense before, and it seemed that the sensation wouldn’t fade very soon. Hisoka had used several words to make him understand that there was something deeper to  his confession. Something Leorio had thought he could handle, until he understood how cruel and dangerous the man in front of him was. Yet, their meeting was interrupted by a phone call, and for the very first time, Leorio was more than relieved to hear the disturbing ring tone, even if it wasn’t his own. Hisoka dug his hand inside his large white trousers’ pocket and grabbed the cell phone to answer.

 

“Mh?” he just hummed, as his face took a different aspect, something between bliss and excitement. “Oh, it was earlier than I thought, well done~.” He patted his chin as he looked back at Leorio, the same dangerous smile on his thin lips. “I’m almost done, yes. Meet me you know where in thirty minutes.”

 

Leorio wanted to ask why Hisoka would like to end the session earlier than expected, but he hadn’t had any chance to speak. The clown extended something out onto the doctor’s desk: a golden envelope cashed with a red seal. Leorio furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned back and gazed at the clown, unamused.

 

“What is it?” Leorio asked, unsure that he wanted to know.

 

“An invitation,” Hisoka simply said, as he stood back up and brushed his trousers. After that, he cleaned up the therapist’s desk by putting his cards back inside his pockets. “Of course, you still can sell it, but I’m sure you won’t.”

 

“An invitation for what?” Leorio snapped as he looked at the golden envelope, like it would jump to his throat and cut it off.

 

Hisoka giggled, before he pushed the invitation to Leorio. “The auctions of course, on Friday night.” He winked before he turned around and walked to the door, his heeled boots knocking on the floor with every step. “I’m sure you really want to see how he is, right?” Hisoka smiled one more time, before he opened the door. “After all, he has been caught into this trap because you did nothing.”

 

Leorio froze, unable to answer, condemned to watch Hisoka leave his office for good. He felt his chest rise up heavily every time he tried to breath. Slowly, he took the invitation inside his hands, shivering like it contained a ghost. He bit his bottom lip and put his forehead onto the invitation, too weak to open it at the moment.

 

“Kurapika…,” he whispered, finally understanding every single one of Hisoka’s allusions.

 

* * *

 

**_December 23rd, Phantom Troupe’s Mansion_ **

 

He heard a deep breath, just above his forehead, warming the top of his hair like the sun itself, while he slowly embraced him tighter, unable to step away. It calmed him so much, to finally catch the soft sound of his heartbeat, and the soft movement of his chest, regular and fortifying. He almost missed the question.

 

“What did you just say?” he whispered; he felt so sleepy at the moment, sat naked against the wall, inside Chrollo’s arms.

 

He felt a gentle hand fondling his hair, liberating his forehead from the intrusive strands which blurred his vision. “I asked you to come with me to Yorknew, if you want to.”

 

Kurapika furrowed his eyebrows and pulled his arms away, as he had to see Chrollo’s face to see if the man was serious. His lover offered him a warm smile as his fingers brushed his cheek, gently, like he was about to fade forever.

 

“I want you to be there with me,” Chrollo whispered, his eyes mapping Kurapika’s marked skin, just before he dug his gorgeous grey inside his own. “It might be just a week, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”

 

Kurapika’s heart skipped a beat, profoundly moved by Chrollo’s statement. He crawled back to him and wrapped his arms around his shoulder to finally lay his head over his chest and embrace him fervently. Chrollo kissed his hair, several times, as Kurapika could feel the sincere smile plastered onto his lips. There was something magical about this moment, something they both couldn’t explain. There was a thing beyond hate, revenge or regrets, they could feel it to their cores, and it linked them, tightly, as they kept falling into this unexpected world. Even Kurapika couldn’t fight it anymore, he knew it. He had to move on, and there were no good answer or acceptable decision. It was his life, his choices, his heart. After all, he couldn’t please the dead, or even the living, all he could do was accept the way he y felt around Chrollo.

 

“I can’t forgive you, you know,” Kurapika eventually dropped, as he played with Chrollo’s fingers. “I won’t ever. I’ll hate you until the end of time.”

 

“Does that mean you will leave, one day?” Chrollo asked, almost tenderly, like they were sharing a casual and lovable conversation.

 

Kurapika sighed as he took a look around the room. Did he want to leave? He would have said yes several weeks ago. He would had said it even an hour ago. But now he had punched his lover, now he had let the anger and rage go away, and there was this strange yet present calm inside of him.

 

“I can’t say,” Kurapika confessed, as he actually understood that he couldn’t answer the question. “I just…don’t want to leave now.”

 

It was true, there was no other option inside his head, and even if he would search for one, it seemed they had faded forever. He felt nothing like he used to do before, during these months spent with Chrollo: no rage, no disgust, and no repulsion. All he wanted was peace in his life, and maybe because he had craved for it, he slowly let go and started to accept the unacceptable. He felt Chrollo’s embrace became stronger as he dug his nose inside his neck. Kurapika shivered under the contact, slowly looking up to catch Chrollo’s stare.

 

“I’m coming with you,” he whispered. “I still don’t know why I should, but I want to come.”

 

Chrollo smiled as he leaned closer. “Good.”

 

They kissed, lying to themselves. They both knew there was no peace for them. They both knew they were playing with fire, and this game couldn’t end well. Blind and foolish, they stopped thinking about the consequences, somehow forgetting that their relationship wouldn’t be accepted. But they kept kissing, their minds away for a moment, unknowing that the fate would catch up to them. _Always_.

 

* * *

 

**_Friday, January 9th, early evening in Yorknew City_ **

 

They came into the city easily, like rats during the night, using the sewers until they could reach their goal, unseen and unknown. They were the plague everyone feared the monsters who had spawned a long time ago; modeled by hate, anger, and cruelty; revealing the true face of the world. They were the children of the sick Earth, those ones who hadn’t had any chance in life, except crawling along the dirty paths, until they finally reached the surface and could breath freely. And yet, no one knew they were already here, lust and greed blinding the fools inside the streets. Everyone had a price, that’s a motto lots of people had forgotten and shouldn’t have. The police, the bodyguards, the thieves and the desperate ones, all had a price, something which could buy any pride, any respect, and any ideology.

 

And so, like it couldn’t be avoided, the terrible date had came. Yorknew City had never been so thrilled before, people craving for prices, buyings, and the sensation of becoming richer and richer. The money went easy inside their hands, and already several billions of Genis had been exchanged, lost or bet. There was a fever sweeping the streets, a hidden illness that made people crazy for more, unable to stop the evil dance of the figures. None of them had paid attention to the city’s events; they all had forgotten to be careful, to watch the faces around them. Citizens and policemen had all missed the dangerous foreigners inside the city, who had came incognito, morphing in with the everyday crew.

 

Inside Hotel Beitacle, near downtown, a strange crew had checked in for the past few days. They had came as pairs, two or sometimes three, always hiding behind massive sunglasses, tuxedos, and fancy dresses. They had claimed to be from several countries, all around the world, and as the auctions had always been the theater of many different kinds of people, no one had been truly suspicious about these new faces in town. Maybe they would have found out that those particular persons were wanted, and that the police had set up many roadblocks to prevent them from coming into the city. Yet, they had managed to come, unnoticed and unknown, ready to do what they knew best: bringing suffering and violence.

 

Kurapika was laying on the hotel’s bed, his blond hair all over the pillow, his face appeased and neutral, as he was asleep and swept inside his fantasies. For several weeks now, he finally looked pacified. Those terrible days he had lived before had seemed to disappear, at least, until today. Chrollo had also noticed it, how Kurapika had changed since he and the rest of the Phantom Troupe had voted for his fate. Somehow, Kurapika was more calm and behaved well, but deep down Chrollo truly missed his fussy character and his morning anger. Of course, he loved this new side of Kurapika, this face he had discovered only recently, hidden under hate and bitterness. Kurapika could be the sweetest human being on Earth, and he had created a new feeling inside Chrollo. See, he had never questioned himself from his previous decisions, and certainly not his mischieves. He had always enjoyed the adrenaline, the blood covering his features and clothes, because, well, it was like he was always meant to be like that. His childhood hadn’t been a wonderful time, he had always had to survive, no matter what. He had never known hugs and love. He had never felt the lovable smell of dinner put on the table by a gentle mother. He had never known his parents, he had been rescued by the people in Meteor City, and since then, he had always managed to find a way to survive and make things work, without knowing the limits of a respectable society. Plus, the mafia had crawled inside the garbage city, spreading her dangerous ideas inside people’s heads, finding a way to convince them to offer their lives in exchange for some useless and imaginary comfort. Too early, he had learnt how to fight, how to kill, how to think to survive. He had had no choice after all, and this deadly poison was inside his veins for too many years now. Into the bloody dust of the demonic city, he had met the others members of the Troupe, and he had found in them a true sort of family. It was maybe because they had never experienced love that they had always acted like that: unable to feel compassion or remorse. After all, no one had ever empathized with them; they had always been alone, trapped inside a merciless world where the richest could buy their principle for nothing.

 

But now that he was looking at Kurapika, sitting at the edge of the bed, tying his tie around his shirt’s collar, he felt something different. He didn’t know what game he was playing anymore, and somehow, everything was blurry when it came to his lover. There was a part of him which always reminded him that he should have stepped away from Kurapika’s life a long time ago, and yet, he hadn’t, preferring to share this weird passion, even if it was also consuming him. He knew it wasn’t for the Troupe’s interests that he had kept Kurapika around, it was for his own pleasure, and not the one he had always known. It was because, somehow, he had found a form of happiness with Kurapika on his side, and this very new feeling was pleasant to live.

 

“Mmmh…,” Kurapika grumbled inside the pillow, as he slowly opened one eye, looking around.

 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” Chrollo whispered tenderly, as he crawled to him to wrap his arm around his tiny waist and kiss his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yeah…,” Kurapika murmured, before he rolled his hips to feel Chrollo’s grip a little bit more. “What time is it?”

 

Chrollo sighed as he fondled Kurapika’s cheek. “Almost time for me to leave.”

 

Kurapika used his arms to lift his torso as he was suddenly struck by the reality of the events. He had almost forgotten that they were inside the Beitacle Hotel and not in the Phantom Troupe mansion anymore. He felt his stomach wrench as he silently pushed the sheets away and crawled behind Chrollo to hug him tightly. His heart was bumping inside his chest, loudly and hurtfully, as he couldn’t find his words. He wanted to say so many things, but nothing seemed to come. He felt Chrollo turn his head, just a little, to kiss his forehead as he felt his raven-hair tickle his left ear like a feather’s caress. He closed his eyes, enjoying Chrollo’s warm breath over his features, somehow reassuring.

 

“Be…,” Kurapika started, before he harshly swallowed his spit, overwhelmed by a weird emotion. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “Be careful tonight.”

 

Chrollo almost smirked as he dug his grey eyes inside Kurapika’s stare. “Are you worried about me, kitten?”

 

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but blush a little, as he looked away. “Tst, shut up seriously.”

 

Chrollo let loose a soft laugh before he cupped Kurapika’s cheeks and leaned closer to catch a tender kiss. It had become like an old routine, whenever Kurapika cursed or snapped, Chrollo would steal a kiss, just a little one, to remind him how he loved when his lover was acting like a kid. Kurapika wrapped his hands around Chrollo’s neck, enjoying the warm lips against his own, before they finally parted. Chrollo took one more look at Kurapika’s face, before he finally stood back up as he smoothed his shirt and finished tying his tie.

 

“Okay, it’s almost time to go,” Chrollo quickly uttered, as he walked to the dresser to catch his tuxedo’s black jacket.

 

Kurapika put his back onto the pillow as he looked at his lover’s transformation. He was looking fancy, lovable and sweet, his face showing nothing but pure innocence. Chrollo touched his dark hair, putting it right in place around his head, before he took the white bandage onto the desk and wrapped it around his forehead to hide his tattoo. Kurapika felt his heart squeeze a little bit inside his chest as he remembered the very first time he had met Chrollo, inside a hotel room in Yorknew City, somehow looking similar to tonight. As he was lost inside his thoughts, he had missed Chrollo’s gesture, while he had caught something inside his inner-jacket’s pocket. It was a long and fancy card, with golden words covering it. Carefully, Chrollo put it onto Kurapika’s lap.

 

“What…,” Kurapika whispered, as he took the card inside his hands and read the writing. “What is that?”

 

“An invitation to the auctions,” Chrollo answered, as he squeezed Kurapika’s wrist, just a little, before he sat on the bed. He seemed suddenly nervous. “I remember our conversation, and we had a talk with the Troupe. They accepted, you can come tonight, but seriously Kurapika, you need to be careful….”

 

Kurapika felt his jaw drop as he looked back at Chrollo’s serious face. “Really? You’re okay with this?”

 

Chrollo sighed, but nodded, brushing Kurapika’s skin softly with his thumb. “I heard you when you told me you wanted to feel alive. I can’t keep you inside a golden jail forever. So yes, I’m taking the risk, you can assist at the auctions tonight. I already told you, nothing will happen inside the auctions’ room.” However, Chrollo cupped Kurapika’s cheek, maybe a little more harshly than he thought, as he dug his stare inside his lover’s. “But promise me you won’t leave the room, no matter what, okay?”

 

Kurapika nodded as he gripped the invitation inside his shaky hands. He couldn’t help but smile, somehow happy that they had come to an agreement. “I won’t, you have my word.”

 

Chrollo looked for something else inside his trousers’ pocket, and finally, he also put a brand new phone into Kurapika’s hand. “My number for tonight is registered in there. As soon as the auctions are over, you call me and I’ll reach you right away. There are the others’ as well, if you need them.” Kurapika carefully brushed the phone with his fingers as Chrollo furrowed his eyebrows. “Ah, don’t use it too much, would you? As it’s new, the battery isn’t fully charged, so save it for calling me after the show.”

 

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry,” Kurapika agreed as he put the phone onto the nightstand, with the invitation. He wanted to share one more special moment with Chrollo, but he was already on his feet. “Oh, you’re leaving…?”

 

Chrollo nodded as he invited Kurapika to stand up, already gripping at his waist to crush him against his chest. Kurapika breathed in his manly perfume, digging his nose in his neck, capturing this moment inside his mind. He felt his vision become blurry, but he managed to keep a straight face as they finally parted.

 

“It won’t be long, I promise,” Chrollo whispered, just before he brushed his hair and put his forehead against Kurapika’s. “See you soon.”

 

They kissed, tenderly, slowly, like they were about to be apart forever. Kurapika noted every emotion he could feel inside this moment, until his lips were once again on their own. Chrollo stepped away, looking at him one last time before he left the room for good. Kurapika was now alone, trapped with his thoughts. Like it was made of metal, he looked at his new phone on the nightstand, before he took it inside his hands. He turned it on and quickly look at his own number inside his contact list, before he reached the Internet logo and clicked it. He tapped something into the search bar, then he logged onto a website. Finally, he froze as he saw what he was looking for.

 

**January 2nd**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** I’ll do my best to protect you…Avoid Yorknew on Friday night… Police are looking for you as well…

 

**January 3rd**

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight** : Kurapika, I just met someone very strange… I think you’re in danger, you need to escape, I’m seriously begging you !

 

 **Red Eyes:** Leorio…

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Kurapika! OMFG, it’s really you ? Where are you ?!!

 

 **Red Eyes:** I can’t tell, but I’ll be in Yorknew City on Thursday night, just before Friday and the biggest auctions’ night…That’s my only window, they will all be there…

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight** : That’s great! That’s really great! I thought you’d never see my message…

 

 **Red Eyes:** This is the first time I turned on a computer… I kinda…felt like you might have tried to reach me.

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** I’m your friend, remember? Okay, I have a plan. Will you assist the auctions on Friday night? I’ll be there, we can meet !

 

 **Red Eyes:** No, I don’t think Chrollo would accept me leaving the hotel room…

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Then I’ll get you there, in which hotel will you check in?

 

 **Red Eyes:** No you don’t understand, they will watch me, one of them is staying at the hotel…

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Then, you need to find a way to convince Chrollo to let you assist the auctions…You’re probably his weakness Kurapika, so use it ! You need to be there on Friday night, otherwise, I won’t be able to help you after that.

 

 **Red Eyes:** Got to go now, someone is coming…I’ll let you know.

 

 **Leorio Paladiknight:** Be careful please…

 

**January 9th**

 

 **Red Eyes:** Auction room at 9pm, seat 236. Here’s my number: 555 689 521.

 

  * **_Leorio Paladiknight is online._**



 

Kurapika felt his heart drop inside his chest as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Was he really about to betray Chrollo ? He bit his bottom lip as he sat onto the bed, digging his head inside his hands.

 

_Yes, he was._

 

* * *

 

Five minutes before the auctions would start, Kurapika stepped inside the Bayloke Hotel. He felt sick, weak, as he moved like a robot, swallowed by the crowd, as he was walking straight to the auction room. Dressed in a tuxedo, he hadn’t felt this uncomfortable in years. It wasn’t because of the material, oh no; Chrollo had chosen fancy outfits for the Troupe to morph inside the city. It was because he felt dressed with shame tonight. Since he had texted Leorio, Kurapika couldn’t help but think that he had made the biggest mistake in his entire life. First, because he didn’t know how he would be able to face his former therapist, as he had somehow outpassed his advice one year ago. Second, and a good one at that, because Kurapika understood he was terrified to betray Chrollo.

 

Without knowing, he had chosen to leave him, abandoning their passion to live freely, without his bad influence. Yet, he felt like there was something heavy on his shoulders, as he reached the auction room and went downstairs. He passively looked at his white invitation to see his seat, brushing the room with his tired eyes until he finally saw rank 200. He slid himself between the people, avoiding their bodies, their fake laughs or their curious stare. He wanted to vanish forever, to be hidden inside a deep and forgotten hole, where nobody would be able to reach him. He thought that he had felt everything, that he had known what the world would do to him, and yet, here he was, more dead than alive as he sat in his red orchestra seat. He couldn’t help but take a look around, hoping to see a familiar face, but who he saw at this particular moment, right on his left, was something he was _not_ ready for.

 

 _Leorio_.

 

Dressed in a suit as well, Leorio was concerned, tense features and pinched lips. He was staring at Kurapika, several ranks away, digging his dark eyes inside of him like he was about to discover something. He was nervous, wrenching his white invitation inside his hands as he didn’t look away. Kurapika felt his eyes burning him as he finally understood his nightmare was about to end tonight. He wanted to throw away all the guilt he felt at the moment, because finally, there was a friend in the room, someone who would never play with his feelings or life. He tried to smile, but his face remained passive as if someone had glued his muscles; it was impossible for him to move. Yet, Leorio seemed to get what he had tried to do, because he was already responding to his smile, softly waving at Kurapika.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening!” a voice shouted from the stage downstairs, as people started to clap fervently. “Welcome, welcome!”

 

A man in a gorgeous red tuxedo had come onto the stage, arms opened like he was ready to welcome everyone between them, his thin and sunken face smiling to the crowd. Kurapika vaguely paid attention to the show as his heart pounded inside his chest.

 

_It’s about to begin…They are probably already at work…Stop that!_

 

Kurapika clenched his fist onto his lap, as he looked down at his shoes, trying to shut his poisoning thoughts. He couldn’t think about the Phantom Troupe at the moment, he had to stop, to accept it was over. He was about to step away from them, freed for good, as he would be able to go back to a normal life, and never have to worry about if he would live or die that day. There wouldn’t be anymore lazy mornings inside the mansion, nor his casual discussions with Chrollo about a book they would read together. There wouldn’t be their hugs, their kisses, their fights during the night, and their morning reconciliations. All of this, he would have to throw away now. Chrollo was his past, and there was nothing to say anymore.

 

“Let’s begin with the wonderful golden dress worn by the actress Helena Portaria in Silence of the Roses, first stake 3 million of Genis!” the man yelled on the edge of the stage as people were already raising their hand to make the price rise.

 

Kurapika took a look at the angry crowd, awakened by greed and want for something as useless as an old dress worn by a dead person. It was pathetic, to see the women gripped to their husband’s arms, yelling at them to bid, their intimidating eyes locked onto the scene as the show kept going. Kurapika took his phone out and turned it on, and he noticed that the battery was almost dead. There was no text either, and it relieved him at little, because it meant that Chrollo wasn’t done and that everything would go as planned. He suddenly felt torn as he remembered what the plan was. For the Phantom Troupe, they were disguised as staff members, discreetly taking the different objects from the sale after they had been sold on stage. With this tactic, they assured themselves a way out, because the crowd and the seller would see the items before they would be stolen by the Troupe. Also, inside the building, some members were making a round, as three others would come to the back street’s staff entrance with a trunk, ready to load the stolen objects in it before they would leave the city for good.

 

Also, there was the police’s plan. Because Leorio had reached Kurapika, Kurapika knew that the cops should be littered about  the building, searching for the Troupe’s members. Soon, he thought that there would be a fight between them, and somehow, things were about to get worse. He hated it, being torn with his feelings, both afraid and excited at the same time. He wanted the Phantom Troupe to be arrested and gone forever, but this dream was poisoned by recurrent memories of soft kisses onto his cheeks or tender whispers inside his ears. He knew it to the core; there was a flower inside his chest, colored with passion and love for the man he should have hated for a long time now.

 

_No, seriously, stop that._

 

Yes, it had to stop now. There was no love inside his heart, it was a fake feeling he had created to cope through the past few months. There had never been passion inside his chest whenever Chrollo had kissed him or made love to him. It was nothing but pure madness; just a psychopath playing with his feelings until he wasn’t sure what he lived for anymore. This bad influence had come to her golden age, and now, it was time to let it go, to embrace his freedom. Yes, he was finally free, there were no chains on his arms nor his feet, he was only trapped inside his head and this jail wasn’t even real. Kurapika raised his stare, before he turned his head and looked at Leorio. As their gazes met, Kurapika eventually smiled warmly, for the very first time in a long time. He saw Leorio relax a little as he nodded and offered him a friendly wink.

 

_Yes I’m free, yes…Yes I’m…_

 

His heart missed a beat as he felt his phone vibrate inside his hands, reminding him that there was still this little link between Chrollo and him. Was it already over? Was Chrollo  already waiting for him to meet? Kurapika lowered his stare as he took a look at the screen. At this particular moment, his life collapsed forever.

 

 _Hisoka:_ Did you say goodbye? I’m hunting a boy down. Do you know who is he, Kurapika? Oh yes you know…Have you heard about the old adage? You must know it…He who laughs last…

Kurapika felt his chest becoming heavy every time he tried to catch his breath. He didn’t even hear the first gunshots coming from upstairs, nor the people who started to freak out. He was focused on the text he had received, his mind blank and his eyes full of tears. He understood the message, and yet he didn’t, he wasn’t sure. Did Hisoka know about Kurapika’s escape? Did he plan all of this? Did Chrollo know as well? But the more he thought, the more he knew it wasn’t the purpose of that message. Someone was about to die tonight, and Hisoka had just warned him. Was it really a warning? No…No it was a game like the clown had always loved to play. 

 

_ Who is he gonna ki… _

 

Time stopped, everything died around him. He widened his eyes as he couldn’t breath anymore. How could he miss it? How could he?!

 

“Chrollo…,” Kurapika whispered, as he finally heard the gunshots coming from upstairs. 

 

People were yelling and crying, women desperately trying to follow their husbands as panic was slowly taking over the crowd. Kurapika started to press onto his phone to reach the contact list; he needed to call Chrollo, he needed to warn him about the events. Hisoka was hunting him, he was seeking his blood tonight. He felt tears burn his cheeks as time itself seemed to slow then. Was it too late? He couldn’t say; he deeply hoped it wasn’t. But as soon as he pressed onto Chrollo’s number, the screen went black and there was nothing to reanimate it. Angrily, Kurapika pressed the on button, but nothing happened, except a low battery signal which had appeared for several seconds before the screen wouldn’t work anymore.

 

“No!” Kurapika yelled as he stood back up and slowly left his seat. “No, no, no! Not now!” 

 

He felt desperate, lost and weak, as he didn’t know what he should do now. He saw Leorio standing to his feet as well, yelling something as he had put his hands around his mouth to be loud and clear. But Kurapika couldn’t hear anything, both because the screams were too loud, and mostly, because his head was filled with cotton at the moment. He had been so sure several minutes ago. He was certain he had been ready to leave Chrollo for good. But now, as he knew that Hisoka was hunting his lover, something was scratching inside his chest, furiously. 

 

“Kurapika!” Leorio snapped, as the therapist tried to slide between the panicked people. “We need to go, come here!”

 

Kurapika left his rank, like a puppet, pushed from everywhere by everyone, still ignoring the terror that had caught the people. He felt nothing anymore. He was empty. 

 

“Kurapika!” Leorio called him once again, trying to catch his attention. 

 

_ He who laughs last… _

 

_ He who laughs last… _

 

_ What’s the rest of it? I don’t remember… _

 

Chrollo kissing his cheeks. Chrollo wrapping his arms around his waist. Chrollo whispering tender things into his ears. He could almost feel his strong embrace, the lovable smell of his cologne, the soft tickling of his raven-hair over his neck.

 

_ It won’t be long… I promise… _

 

_ Are you worried about me, kitten? _

 

His laugh when Kurapika was angry in the morning. The spark inside his grey eyes whenever he was reading something interesting. His opened mouth when he was deeply asleep. His caresses over his body, soft and warm. The way he gazed at him, the way he intertwined their fingers. The promise he had made: to save him, no matter what. 

 

_ Does that mean you will leave one day? _

 

_ He who laughs last… _

 

“Kurapika, no! No, come back!” Leorio yelled, horrified. “Let him go! Don’t go there!”

 

And yet, he was already running, his heart ready to explode inside his chest. No, he couldn’t let it happen; he wouldn’t accept it. Chrollo was a monster, a spawn of Satan, the most dangerous devil in the world, and yet, God yet, Chrollo was his, only his. Kurapika ran until he reached the auctions’ doors, opening them with all his strength. He made his choice; he had made it a long time ago. Everything had always been about Chrollo…

 

“Silva!” Leorio called, as he reached the tall and imposing detective, who was climbing the stairs, also dressed in fancy clothes, a walkie-talkie inside his hand. “Silva, please! Stop the operation! Kurapika ran to the first floor, we need to stop it!” Leorio caught Silva’s arm, trying to make the man stop his motion.

 

Silva violently pushed him away as he looked straight at the opened doors. 

 

“Kurapika has made his choice, doctor,” he snapped, as he put the walkie-talkie up to his lips. “Silva Zoldyck reporting, Phantom Troupe has another member. Man, blond, thin and tiny, about twenty three years old, dressed in a black tuxedo as well. He just left the auction room. Same orders applied: you have my permission to shoot him down.”

 

“Unit 235 Alpha 7. Copy,” a robotic voice answered, shattering Leorio’s soul in pieces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked it people ♥  
> This chapter was, for me, the best I have ever created ! 
> 
> What did you think about it??


	4. ...Laughs the best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! ~
> 
> I'm really really sorry for the long wait, but finally it's time for me to publish this last chapter of this second part of Web of Disasters. I'm more than happy to offer you this one, I worked on it this summer, but as I said on my Tumblr or here, my beta-editor was truly busy (if you want to check her tumblr out yaoiobsessedwrites.tumblr.com, she's an impressive writer and editor and her commissions are open).
> 
> Also, I've already started to write the final part of Web of Disasters, I think I'll be able to publish the first chapter this fall. 
> 
> Thank you for the support over the months, I'm always so happy to read your comments, or to see more kudos. Don't hesitate to share your feelings with me! It's always a fuel when you publish something, and I'm always willing to answer and have a little chat with you. ♥
> 
> See you very soon, and enjoy the reading !

_ “If we don’t end war, war will end us.” - H.G Wells. _

 

 

War was everywhere that night; no one could escape it. People were running inside the auction room, hands on their ears to try to escape the incredible noises coming from upstairs: gunshots, yells, laughs; horror was spread everywhere it could be seen. Inside the room, it was becoming more and more difficult to prevent a riot. Humankind has always respected the rules of nature, and whenever people felt in danger, they gave into their instincts and acted like animals. There was no kindness, protection, or solidarity at the moment. Everyone was on their own. Even if the sounds of war were close, but still not in the room, where the people would be safer than out of the building for now, there was no calm anymore. Sadly, Leorio assisted this madness. He tried to calm people down, using his natural good listener skills to talk with the enraged guests who wanted to leave the room at all costs. But nothing worked at the moment. There was no way he could calm the situation down, and with each passing minute, he understood how useless he was.

 

_ Useless _ . From the very beginning. Useless since he had met Kurapika and had promised him he would be able to help him. Useless, because in the end, Kurapika had crawled the stairs up just a moment ago, ready to meet the very man he should have left behind. He hadn’t been able to help him, nor save him, and Leorio felt his heart drop inside his chest. He kneeled, as he put his head inside his hands, pushed by the crowd, surrounded by shrieks and fear. He wasn’t able to do anything anymore. He had failed Kurapika, and he had failed his own goal of justice. He had been so confident that he would be the one who Kurapika would listen to. After their exchanges online, he had been sure that Kurapika had chosen the right way. Yet, something had happened. Kurapika’s face had changed when he had read his cellphone; he had seen something. Leorio had recognized it, this sudden excess of despair inside his former patient’s eyes. And suddenly, it hit Leorio. He tapped his forehead with the palm of his hand and swore loudly.

 

“Dammit, you idiot!” he uttered as he took his cellphone out to log onto the blog website and read the last comment he had received from Kurapika. “You’re just an idiot, Paladiknight, he gave you his number!”

 

As he pressed his phone against his ear, he felt like he was inside a bubble, away from everything. He took a look at the mad crowd in front of him like he was inside a movie and he was just there to watch the misery and fright all around him. He heard a strange ringtone coming from his phone, but no answer, just a mechanical voice telling him something he didn’t listen to, and now, everything was different. Everyone in the room was a new form of Kurapika. Leorio could see him everywhere: running, yelling, and begging for his life. His heartbeat increased the more the minutes passed, and he finally understood that the mechanical voice had just let him know that the phone he called was off. He clenched his fist as the little light of hope was now forever diminished. After several seconds, he got back to reality. He had to be useful this time. He started to look for Silva in the crowd, yet, the detective seemed nowhere to be found. As his eyes scanned the entire place, he noticed that all the policemen had left the room. Even the fire exit seemed to be locked from the outside. 

 

“What the fuck is happening..?” Leorio murmured to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he felt his skin cover with goosebumps. “Why are we locked in here? We should have been evacuated, that’s what Silva told us…”

 

But Silva was nowhere to be found, and the crowd slowly lost its patience. People were trying to press themselves against the doors downstairs, near the empty stage, avoiding the main entrance where this strange war had begun earlier. The gunshots seemed to get closer, and it was harder for everyone to stay trapped inside the auction room. And, there were no policemen to insure security. As Leorio dug his fingers inside his pocket to grab his phone, with a need to call Silva, the main doors suddenly crashed wide open with a massive explosion. Leorio, who was still in the stairs, slowly spun on himself to take a look at the entrance, more afraid than he had ever been. There was something wrong; the plan wasn’t working anymore. A thick and ugly grey smoke started to accumulate over the room as a deadly silence muffled everything. It seemed that everybody was holding their breath at that moment. 

 

“Is that the police..?” a woman whispered to her husband, near Leorio. Her voice was shaky and frail. 

 

“Why would the police crash the fucking door down with explosives?” her husband snapped as he dragged her downstairs. 

 

_ Yes…Why would they? _

 

A woman started to yell loudly as footsteps were heard near the door. People remained like statues, unable to move anymore. There was something desperate inside this yell, and everyone could understand that the true horror had just started. Yet, suddenly, a shot striked and the woman was suddenly quiet, as everyone heard something heavy fall to the ground. Slowly, like time itself was about to stop, a long agony seemed to enter into the room, freezing hearts and souls as people instinctively pressed against each other. Even Leorio felt the urge to remain hidden, as he carefully squated himself down, his heartbeat loud and irregular. He knew that something was about to happen, and that this terrible night would be even worse after these few seconds of trepidation. He wanted to claim that they were innocent, and that the Phantom Troupe wasn’t here, probably upstairs was where they should looking for them. Yet, deep down inside of him, he couldn’t stop thinking that these unknown people wouldn’t care about his statement. They were here for violence. After all, this city was well-known for dragging in violent people with inappropriate mischieves. 

 

“Well, hello everyone!” a voice suddenly screamed from the remnants of the doors. “We are your entertainment for this lovely evening! Now, I would like to ask you a little question, if you don’t mind.” A man dressed in tuxedo, his sleeves pulled up and carrying a machine gun, showed his face to the crowd. “Where are our fucking boss' treasures?” 

 

Leorio furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand what the man was talking about. But suddenly, something caught his eyes, and he realized at this very moment that things couldn’t be worse. Indeed, there was a tattoo on the man’s left forearm depicting a snake crushing a skull. He harshly swallowed his spit as the world seemed to spin faster around him.

 

“The mob…,” he whispered as he clenched his fist and felt his legs quiver under his own weight, “It’s the fucking mob!” 

 

* * *

 

“Come on, hurry up! The police are everywhere!” Pakunoda yelled as they turned into another corridor. 

 

They were upstairs, and the situation seemed more dangerous than before. Everything had been perfect until they had been attacked by the police on the first floor. They hadn’t panicked at all, but now, they knew that it was more than time to leave the place. Fortunately, Shalnark had downloaded a very precise map of the building, and they had already settled their way out in case of an emergency. But the path wasn’t easy, and they had to take many different stairways and corridors to escape the police. As they had known, the different items sold during the auctions were stocked inside a huge windowless room on the first floor. To prevent any robbery during the sales, the authorities had decided to present copies on stage, not informing the guests inside the room; they would be able to recover the true items once the sale was over. Indeed, as the Phantom Troupe had stolen King Meruem’s jewels the previous year, the authorities were clever enough to understand that the gang was alive and well and ready to start again. So, for several months, they had created those false items and they managed to spread rumors that the objects would be stored inside the room near the stage, hoping that the thieves would go directly there, where the police and special squads would be waiting for them. 

 

However, the Phantom Troupe was one step ahead of the police. They knew that the police would try to trap them, so they had prepared their robbery very carefully. Shalnark had managed to hack into the government security system, and he had recovered every email and file about the auctions. Then, they had discovered the trick, and they had planned everything as to not get caught that night. They had discreetly merged with the guests, with false identity cards, where they had been registered as clients from the hotel. Then, it had been easy for them to go upstairs, where strangely, the security was less reinforced. They had killed the two guards in front of the items’ room, and they had started to take the objects out of the building where Kortopi, Phinks, and Bonolenov had parked a massive rent truck, disguised as members of the caterer service. 

 

Everything had gone smoothly until a cop had come upstairs, and before Uvogin could put him down, he had sent an emergency signal to his coworkers. At first, the Troupe didn’t understand why this man had come all the way here, because they had been careful enough to use the walkie-talkies of the two dead guards to often signal that everything was alright upstairs. Yet, they hadn’t had time to think about it, and they had had to leave earlier than anticipated. 

 

“At the end of the corridor, we’ll have to go left and take the emergency stairs!” Shalnark yelled, as he looked at his phone in his hand. “We can make it, this area isn’t watched by cops!”  

 

Chrollo, Pakunoda, Machi, Uvogin, and Feitan followed their mate’s instructions. They could hear that the police were near.

 

“Thankfully, this building is a real maze!” Machi said as she opened the stairs’ door haphazardly. 

 

They suddenly froze when they heard hurried steps coming from the stairwell. They pressed themselves against the wall, a little bit more panicked that they would be caught like this. Alone in his corner, Uvogin started to crack his fingers, ready to fight if he had to. But then, they saw Nobunaga followed by Hisoka.

 

“We had to take a little detour,” Nobunaga said as he caught his breath. “We needed to know if the way out is safe.”

 

“And?” Feitan asked as he looked downstairs. “Is it safe?”

 

Nobunaga nodded, reassuring the others. Hisoka was focused on Chrollo’s features. It seemed that the man was in deep reflection. 

 

“Is there a problem, Danchou?~” Hisoka asked with his smooth voice, his yellow eyes sparkling a little bit more than usual. 

 

“This third cop who came up to the first floor, I don’t like it…,” Chrollo answered, tapping his chin with his thumb. “Why did he come? It makes no sense, we’ve been careful.” 

 

Hisoka smirked softly as he couldn’t help but gaze at Chrollo. In fact, Hisoka knew exactly why the cop had been there, and moreover, he knew who had asked him to go there. The plan was perfectly executed. Now was the perfect moment to send his little bait to Kurapika. Discreetly, he took his phone out of his pocket and quickly wrote his message before he pressed the send icon. It was thrilling, how perfect everything was. Finally, he was about to succeed: he would kill Chrollo tonight. And as soon as he thought that, an explosion could be heard downstairs. 

 

Chrollo furrowed his eyebrows as he suddenly looked back up. “What was that?” Chrollo asked, confused and suddenly worried.

 

As soon as he had asked the question, Shalnark had taken the walkie-talkie from the guard out of his bag and had turned the button to intercept the frequence. They heard different alien noises, and it took several minutes until he managed to get what he was looking for. Chrollo almost lost his patience. 

 

“All units, Isaac Netero reporting. We need backup downstairs! Gunshots and grenade explosions have been heard! I repeat, we need backup downstairs!” the staticy voice yelled from the radio. “All units, Snake is inside the Auction Rooms. Civilians on the ground. I repeat, we have civilians on the ground. Snake is here!” 

 

“Unit 5, copy,” a voice answered after some electrical noises.

 

“Unit 3 and 4, copy.”

 

Shalnark decided to turn the walkie-talkie off, his eyes looking for an answer on Chrollo’s face. 

 

“Snake?” Machi whispered, trying to understand. “Another gang came to the party?” 

 

Hisoka puffed silently, but then, he cleared his throat and caught everyone’s attention. 

 

“Snake, like the Snake Mob maybe?” he said casually as he waved a hand. “It was more than expected, they hate us and want their piece of the cake as well. They must have found a way in and they discovered we were about to rob everything again. Basically, they’re acting like animals defending their territory.” 

 

“Then, this our window to leave the building!” Nobunaga uttered, and everyone nooded. 

 

Yet, Chrollo remained strangely silent, his eyes widened; everything was collapsing around him. He had made a promise earlier. He had promised to Kurapika that everything would be alright, and that he would protect him. But now, Kurapika was in the most dangerous place of the building instead of being safe. He had heard cleary what Isaac Netero had said: there were civilians who had been killed or wounded already. As an awful reminder, Chrollo could hear the walkie-talkie crackling inside Shalnark’s hands. He couldn’t think properly; everything seemed blurry and confusing. Deep down, he knew that something wrong was happening, something he couldn’t figure out yet. He was missing a point and he couldn’t find out what was it. 

 

Nobunaga finally caught his shoulders and shook it a little. “Danchou, we need you right here, right now!” he whispered, somehow like a father would do. 

 

Hisoka was still analyzing Chrollo’s every movement, enjoying how the boss was struggling with his emotions right now. He had been right from the very beginning: Kurapika was Chrollo’s biggest weakness, and this terrible mistake would be the end of him tonight. He felt like his blood was boiling inside his veins as he remained silent, just waiting for Chrollo to make the wrong decision he had been waiting for, for so long. Eventually, Chrollo looked at Nobunaga and pressed his hand onto his arm.

 

“You all go to the truck right now, I need to do something!” he ordered abruptly, yet, his voice was reflecting how sorry he was.

 

“Danchou, what the fuck?” Feitan yelled as he moved forward to catch his boss’ arm. “Where are you going?” 

 

“You need to leave him, Danchou,” Pakunoda argued with a soft and calm voice. “We need to get out of here right now...You know it.” She sighed softly and looked at the others’ faces. “If the mafia is downstairs, the police are here to protect the citizens. He’s safer there! But us, we’re still in danger.” 

 

Chrollo smiled softly, and it was a very strange reaction from him for the rest of the Troupe. He looked like someone who had lost hope and faith, ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

 

“I promised him I would get him, no matter what,” Chrollo answered as he took a step backward to reach the doors. “Here’s my orders: go to the truck and leave in ten minutes, if I’m not at the back of the building. Remember, my orders are the priority, but I’m not! I need him back, but you have to leave with the items! The spider will live tonight.” 

 

Chrollo was determined, and they all knew there was nothing they could say to convince him otherwise. He had given his orders. Without adding anything else, they started to run towards the stairs, in order to reach the exit and meet the rest of the members. Chrollo, on the other hand, was already running back into the corridor to find his loved one. 

 

* * *

 

When Silva Zoldyck received the desperate radio call from Isaac Netero, he hadn’t been able to believe what he had just heard. He had just left the auction rooms, and he had been certain that all the citizens were safe inside. He could have sworn it. Yet, as he was about to reach the first floor, hugely pissed off because Kurapika had failed his expectations and had made him lose precious time, he heard over the walkie-talkie that the mob was inside the building. He gripped his own walkie-talkie inside his large hand, eyebrows furrowed. Why would the mob be here? How could they have known about the operation? And suddenly, like a light bulb flashing inside his head, everything made sense. He stepped out of the building in a hurry until he met Isaac on the roadway. Now, he was facing the chief of the police, his breathing heavy and his forehead sweaty.

 

“Where the fuck is he?” he asked loudly as he grabbed Isaac by the collar. He was out of control. “Did you see him?”

 

Isaac ripped his collar out of Silva’s hands, a dark look inside his old eyes. Some policemen started to come closer, ready to protect their chief from assault, but Isaac shook his head, silently asking them to stay away from the detective.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Isaac yelled, furious. “What the hell is wrong with you? You need to calm down because you’re about to ruin this operation!” 

 

“Why did you ask the forces to go downstairs?” Silva snapped, coming closer until his chest was almost touching Isaac’s. “The Phantom Troupe is upstairs and they will escape for sure!”

 

Isaac Netero didn’t answer; he simply clenched his fist and gave Silva a determined look.

 

“Your stupid revenge against Chrollo Lucilfer has crossed the line, Silva,” Isaac whispered aggressively. “I won’t let civilians be killed just to catch the Phantom Troupe, you hear me? My forces have sworn to protect the citizens, I  _ swore _ to protect the citizens, do you hear me?” Progressively, he started to raise his tone until he was yelling at Silva. “Now, you should ask yourself where your own priorities are! Maybe Illumi should answer to that question as well! By the way,  _ Silva _ ,” he emphasized his name, angrier than never, “Tell me! Where is your son right now?”

 

There was no way that this conversation would end well, so naturally, like two forces of the nature, they parted and went their separate ways. Isaac was still directing his troops, his walkie-talkie almost crushed inside his hand, watching to make sure everything went accordingly. However, Silva was still awfully pissed by what had happened. He went to his car and smashed the outside rear-view mirror off, unable to understand why everything had gone so badly. He took his phone out of his jacket and searched for his son’s number, trying to figure out Isaac’s words earlier. As soon as he heard the phone company telling him that the number wasn’t reachable anymore, he lost it. Slowly but surely, every piece of the puzzle started to come together. Illumi had betrayed him, and he had chosen a very dark path. 

 

Indeed, two years ago, Silva had discovered his son’s affair with a notorious criminal known as Hisoka Morrow, aka The Clown. Already furious at the discovery of his son’s homosexuality, everything had become even more tense when Illumi had told him that he wouldn’t let Hisoka down, no matter what. So, afraid that the affair would one day be known by the wrong person, sullying the Zoldyck’s reputation, Silva had come to an agreement with Illumi. Or rather, he had settled his own rules, crushing Illumi’s demands down. Sometimes, having a criminal by his side was the best way to collect some essential information, and Silva had decided to use Hisoka to get what he had always wanted: the Phantom Troupe. Frequently, he had pushed his power over Illumi, blackmailing him until his son had no choice but to accept the vicious deal and contact Hisoka. That was how Silva had solved many situations, and the more time passed, the more he had loved this power and the credits he had taken fervently, cherishing his position inside society. He was useful, he was  _ the man _ . 

 

“Fuck you, Illumi!” Silva hissed as he crushed his fist inside his car’s window, “And, fuck this clown!”

 

They had double crossed him. When he was certain that he had a firm grip over his son and his lover, they had found a way to ridicule him. Illumi had contacted Hisoka, and The Clown had made a deal with his son. If the mob was there, it wasn’t simply because there was a link inside the police, it was because his son had facilitated it. He had been in touch with the mafia and had given the bosses false information about the auction rooms. He had certainly told them that the objects were retained inside the room near the stage, and that the Phantom Troupe would rob all of the treasures that night. So, he had started a fire, pushing the fact that the Troupe would be more powerful and feared by the people, and that the mob would certainly lose a lot of domination on the black market. Indeed, Chrollo and the others would have everything, and the mob wouldn’t be able to surpass them anymore. He had touched them to the core, boiling up their fear that they would be useless one day, and the mob had answered to the threat as Hisoka and Illumi had expected. They had showed up, with all their strength, shooting innocent people, stealing what they had claimed would be theirs. And it was clever, because the police had been forced to concentrate its forces to arrest the mafia’s men and not the Phantom Troupe anymore. In this way, Illumi had had his chance to escape with Hisoka, withholding the revenge his father had been seeking for years. 

 

Of course, Silva was almost right. He had almost understood everything. But what he couldn’t know at this moment, was that Hisoka had another plan in his twisted mind. He wanted something else than to fly away with Illumi tonight. He craved blood.  _ Chrollo’s blood.  _

 

* * *

 

How many times he had ran, Kurapika couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he had to find Chrollo. His phone was dead, so the only option he had was to find Chrollo himself. Because, as he had ran all over the place, Kurapika had understood something: he couldn’t trust any member of the Troupe. Maybe Hisoka wasn’t acting alone, and finding the wrong person, another traitor, would be a disaster. Once again, he reached another floor, his heart racing inside his chest like it was about to explode, furiously pumping all the blood he could offer. His legs weren’t really strong, his strength almost gone as the deadly minutes passed. Hisoka was a professional, he had killed many people during his lifetime, and he enjoyed it more than anything in the world. He had always loved his unconventional goals, and Kurapika had learnt how determined the man could be. Why he wanted Chrollo’s death tonight, Kurapika couldn’t understand, but somehow, he was sure that  _ he _ was one of those reasons. It seemed that Hisoka had always had a love interest for the leader of the Troupe, but this twisted attraction had never been given back. Chrollo had had many lovers, Kurapika wasn’t a fool and he knew it, yet Hisoka had never been one of them. 

 

As he thought about the many causes of Hisoka’s decision, he had finally reached the fourth floor. He was about to turn another corner when he heard some footsteps coming from the end of the corridor. He crushed his back against the wall, plastering his hand over his month to cover his heavy breathing, as his back slid down. Crouching, he tried to get a look at the individual, but suddenly, all the lights were switched off, certainly because of the strange sounds coming from downstairs. Kurapika didn’t know anything about the mob attack and the disaster inside the auction room, so he simply thought that the police were still chasing the members of the Troupe. And engulfing the entire building into darkness, was the best move the police had, at the moment. Yet, there was no time to think about that as the dark form continued to move carefully, and suddenly, Kurapika started to fear that it could be Hisoka. After all, he would be inside the hotel, hunting his boss as he had said he would. Kurapika tried to remain as invisible as he could, curling up on himself to stay plastered to the wall. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t look away; he needed to know who this person was. Slowly, the person, who seemed to be a man, started to be more recognizable, wearing a tuxedo, not very tall but muscular. Kurapika furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes slowly becoming more accustomed to the darkness. Finally, he felt his heart pump furiously inside his chest as a drop of sweat caressed his cheek like the fingers of Death itself. It was  _ him _ . Yes, there was no doubt. 

 

“Chrollo!” he called as he found the strength to stand back up, running towards his lover’s open arms.

 

“Oh, kitten…,” Chrollo answered softly, sounding for the very first time worried and afraid. 

 

He opened his arms and Kurapika couldn’t stop his mad dash, he caught Chrollo’s waist as he dug his nose inside his neck. He had found him, he had succeeded. He stayed a long time like that, eyes closed and breath heavy, finally relieved and happy. He felt Chrollo brush his hair softly, his mouth peppering kisses over his forehead like it was the first time he had discovered the softness of his skin. Chrollo finally took Kurapika’s face inside his hands, looking to meet his stare. 

 

“When I heard that the mafia was downstairs, I tried to go there, but it was a battlefield…,” Chrollo caressed Kurapika’s cheek as he leaned closer. “Oh god, I was so worried, kitten.” He softly stole a kiss, pressing his lips gently like Kurapika would fade away from him. 

 

_ What is he talking about? Did he just say the mafia? _

 

Yet, Kurapika suddenly stepped away, remembering why he had been desperately searching for Chrollo several minutes ago. He caught his wrists, digging his worried look inside his lover’s eyes. He feared that he wouldn’t believe him, but he needed to try. 

 

“I need to tell you something, and you have to believe me…” He sighed a second as he pressed his thumbs over Chrollo’s wrists. “Please, you need to trust me, I’m begging you!”

 

Chrollo gathered his eyebrows, as he remained silent, waiting for Kurapika to spit it out.

 

“It’s Hisoka…,” Kurapika started as he remembered the terrible feeling he had felt when he had read the text. “He’s going to kill you tonight. He texted me, but I couldn’t call you because the phone you gave me died. I swear, it’s his plan! He asked me if I had said goodbye to you, because…” Kurapika froze, the words trapped inside his throat. It was unbelievably difficult to say it. “Because he’s hunting you…” 

 

Chrollo didn’t answer right away. He stayed stoic, like a silver statue, his expression neutral. Kurapika couldn’t tell if the man had heard or not, or if was trying to figure out why his lover would lie to him. Kurapika didn’t move, waiting for Chrollo to finally respond. He wanted to shake his shoulders and yell that it was the truth, that he wouldn’t lie, but he didn’t say anything, holding Chrollo’s wrists tightly. Eventually, Chrollo furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the ground.

 

“That would explain the policeman on the first floor and the mob…” Chrollo finally looked at Kurapika and circled his jaw, softly brushing the skin. “Are you sure about it?” But before Kurapika could answer, Chrollo smiled to him, tenderly. “Of course, you are. I’m pretty sure that no one was able to leave the room, so as you did it, you’re targeted as one of ours now. You wouldn’t do it if-” Yet he stopped, as his face suddenly turned serious. He took a step forward and put his forehead softly against Kurapika’s. “You know, Kurapika…I love you too.”

 

Kurapika felt his heart hit so hard his chest as his legs turned to cotton so quickly that he didn’t know how he had managed not to fall over. Why would Chrollo say something like that? Why would he assume something as stupid as his feelings for him? But then, Kurapika couldn’t help but feel the blush over his cheeks and his stomach keeping churning on itself. After all, why would he have left the room? Why would he run to save Chrollo? He knew what he would become, he knew that he would be a part of the crew, after that. 

 

He waved a dismissive hand, as he looked away, trying to keep up his facade. “Tst, stop that you brat,” he eventually snapped, but before he could ask Chrollo to leave the building immediately, Chrollo grabbed him by the collar and kissed him passionately. He let his mouth widen a little as their tongues softly caressed each others, just for a couple of seconds. It was an intense and promiseful kiss, something entirely different than usual. Yet, they needed to go, so Kurapika parted slowly as he saw a huge smirk plastered onto his lover’s lips. “Now, we need to get out of here, yeah?”

 

Chrollo nodded, aware of the threat. “Yes, come.”

 

They didn’t wait any longer, afraid that Hisoka or the police would find them there. Somehow, Kurapika felt bliss blossoming inside his chest, as he didn’t leave Chrollo’s side, running next to him as the man lead them to the exit. It was like he had all the answers he needed, aware that his choice had been made a long time ago. Deep down, it should have bothered him, when Chrollo had stated that the authorities assumed Kurapika was a part of the crowd, not a member himself. Yet, he knew it was a part of the truth, in the end. He had been Chrollo’s lover for a year, and his heart was only pounding inside his chest faster because of him, and no one else. He didn’t want to forget his feelings in hopes of becoming more mentally stable, simply because being in love wasn’t healthy anyway. He had fallen for a man he shouldn't have. And everytime he had been pissed off by Chrollo, he had known how much he wanted him to be around. Chrollo was a part of him, a part of his sad yet true story. He wanted to slowly let his life be protected by Chrollo like the man was doing at the moment. Kurapika couldn’t say it out loud, but he needed what his lover had always offered: attention and protection. After all this time, Chrollo had been trapped as well, and it wasn’t a part of the plan.

 

“This way!” Chrollo said as he took his hand to lead him into another corridor where they were able to take the staff’s stairs.

 

Kurapika couldn’t stop his mind as his legs followed the man he had always fled. He looked at his raven hair moving around his face, his eyebrows furrowed, worried because he wanted to save the both of them. It was the truth, something Chrollo wouldn’t play with. He had taken risks to stay inside the building, he could have been arrested by the police or killed by Hisoka or the mob. Yet, he had stayed; he had chosen to run into this chaos for only one person. He had done that for love. Nothing else but  _ love _ . They reached the first floor, where the gunshots and the war downstairs was louder and terrible to hear. Yet, Kurapika didn’t hear a thing, he didn’t pay attention anymore; he was in another world, a place he thought he wouldn’t ever know. Strangely, he suddenly felt alive, set on fire, invisible wings growing behind his back. Chrollo was the wrong person, yes of course. But still, he was his true lover, the only one who had crossed a real danger to reach him. And he had told him, without hesitation anymore, without playing with his feelings, that he loved him. It was  _ real _ . He pressed his fingers firmly against  Chrollo’s hand, out of breath, sweaty because of all the running, but a huge smile plastered onto his features. And Chrollo noticed it, how blissed and relieved Kurapika looked at the moment. He couldn’t help but smile back, now that they were approaching the exit. There was no one inside the corridors, and all the lights were switched off. No one would pay attention to the events on the first floor, to the two fugitives trying to escape through the backdoor, ready to disappear into the night. No one. Except maybe  _ a hunter. _

 

Chrollo suddenly froze, obligating Kurapika to imitate his gesture. He was tensed, his breathing heavy, and even if he had all the reasons to run, he didn’t move. Kurapika tried to force him, his tiny body too weak to do anything. He didn’t understand why Chrollo had stopped, after all, there were in a hurry, they needed to leave. But then, Kurapika understood why Chrollo had stopped running, why he was so rigid and somehow, afraid. Kurapika heard a distinctful click behind him, something he had heard so many times in his cruel life. They weren’t alone in this corridor anymore. Someone had found him, and he didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. He already knew. Chrollo crushed his fingers inside his hand, and Kurapika could almost felt the palpitations of his heart while the leader spun on him to face their enemy. Kurapika finally imitated his gesture as he felt he was about to faint. He was living  _ that _ terrible night once again. He felt his mother’s breath above his shoulder and the terrible smell of her blood on his clothes. Like a cat, eyes deadly and sparkling, Hisoka was walking towards them, holding a gun in his hand, a smirk plastered onto his thin lips. 

 

“Hello boys~,” he whispered hungrily, his voice barely audible over the gunshots downstairs. “I thought I wouldn’t find you at all.”

 

Chrollo took a step forward, pushing Kurapika behind his back as he didn’t hide his disgust. Everything was true; Hisoka really wanted to kill him tonight. He gathered his eyebrows as he kept a strong hand onto Kurapika’s arm, keeping him behind him. 

 

“So, that’s it,” Chrollo snapped, his voice as cold as stalagmites, “That’s your final move. Your revenge over the Troupe. It’s disappointing. You call yourself such a good and clever player, but it’s very cheap Hisoka. It’s almost cliché, even for you.”

 

There was a sparkle of anger inside Hisoka’s eyes, but he simply extended his hand like he was offering it to Chrollo. 

 

“I know, I know. You’re not ready to die without a firecracker behind your back. You wanted something phenomenal, something to match your ego.” Hisoka puffed a little as he raised his gun up. “But, I can’t offer you this. You betrayed me.”

 

“How did I betray you?” Chrollo hissed, even angrier. “Am I the one who’s holding a gun up to you?” 

 

Hisoka pointed to Kurapika with a gesture of his hand, suddenly losing his smile. 

 

“You betrayed me with  _ this _ ,” Hisoka continued, this time, his tone dangerous and deep. “I always wanted to kill you. You were so strong, so powerful. I wanted to break you the second I met you. I played your game though, knowing that one day, I’d be able to face you and make you spit your teeth out. I  _ craved _ it, Danchou!” He sighed exaggeratedly as his eyes, the only thing truly distinguishable in the darkness, were furious. “But, you ruined everything with your broken toy. I thought you would just use it for a while, just like you did with all the others. It would have been so fun, crushing the last bug of the Kurta clan in your hands. I wanted you to do it, to show me how merciless the great Chrollo was!” He took a step forward, visibly enraged. “But, you actually  _ fell in love _ ! The joke’s on you! Chrollo Lucilfer trapped in his own game. How pitiful you are right now!”

 

Chrollo hand put more pressure onto Kurapika’s arm. Kurapika knew that they needed to find a way out because Hisoka was about to do something terrible. Kurapika didn’t want to witness it. He didn’t want Chrollo to get killed by this psychopath, who had craved his leader’s death for ages. Softly, he moved forward, almost unnoticed. He couldn’t let this terrible thing happen. 

 

“Hisoka…,” Chrollo said, his voice without any emotion, focused on Hisoka’s dark features. “You’ve just crossed a line. You’re not a member of the Troupe anymore. You’re not a brother. You’re just a lunatic who tries to explain his impenetrable mind! You’re nothing but a joke.”

 

Hisoka didn’t smile anymore. He was terrifying as he raised his gun a little higher.

 

“You know you’ve just killed yourself Danchou, right? I can’t offer you a fair match.” He smirked as his fingers went to pull the trigger. “ I don’t want to anymore. That would be too expensive for the broken toy you are.”

 

Quickly but easily, Hisoka did it. Two times. And, so did Kurapika. Hisoka had pressed the trigger, choosing to kill the man he had somehow admired his whole life. He couldn’t accept that Chrollo could have feelings for a prisoner, a useless toy he should have thrown away. He couldn’t accept how weak the Phantom Troupe’s leader was at the moment, far away from the image of power he had always admired. He had lost his passion for him. And Kurapika, according to his own way, didn’t accept it either. Using all of his strength, he had pushed Chrollo, firmly in his waist. He had crushed his back until Chrollo had been forced to move, losing his balance and crashing into the wall. In one second, they had switched their places. 

 

And that easily, Kurapika took the two bullets into his chest.

 

He felt his own blood splash onto his shirt, soiling it with red splotches. He couldn’t breathe anymore; the pain was unbearable. The world around him was blurry, the lines of the wall almost erased as his vision was almost blank. He didn’t know where he had been shot. He couldn’t remember when he had fallen onto the ground, so heavily that he had broken his wrist. He hadn’t even felt his temple hit the cold tiles nor the terrible crack coming from his jaw. All he had was pain. A deadly pain.

 

“No…,” Chrollo whispered, horrified. 

 

He ran to his lover laid down onto the ground, a puddle of blood around his waist. Kurapika didn’t move anymore, his chest was barely rising up, and his face was becoming paler and paler every second. Hisoka didn’t move either, surprised at the turn of events, and somehow, even more satisfied. He had broken Chrollo in a way he hadn’t expected at all; he had ripped his heart out. Yet, Hisoka knew that he couldn’t stay anymore, aware that the police were still downstairs and Illumi was somewhere in the city, waiting for him. He threw the gun away, let his yellow eyes scan the scene one more time, a satisfied smile on his lips, before he turned around and vanished into the corridor. Maybe Chrollo would be interesting again once his lover would finally be buried. As he ran away, Hisoka couldn’t help but laugh out loud, a new hope burning his heart. Hope that Chrollo would chase him one day, after his revenge. It was a blessed feeling as he slithered away into the shadows. Chrollo, on the other hand, was devastated. 

 

Carefully, he kneeled down to grab Kurapika arms as he lifted him up to hug him tightly. He heard a soft moan coming from Kurapika’s lips, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do, except to fondle his face, unable to face reality. Tears started to fall down his cheeks before they dropped onto Kurapika’s chest, mixing themselves with the blood, which was still coming out of his wounds. For the very first time in his life, Chrollo was deeply wrecked. He had never feared anything before, he had always been the man in charge, the leader, the merciless one. But now, he felt like a puppet without its strings, slowly falling into a dark and helpless world. 

 

“It…It hurts…,” Kurapika eventually whispered, spitting blood out of his mouth. He was quivering inside Chrollo’s arms. “I’m… cold…”

 

Chrollo felt like someone was cutting his soul into pieces. He knew he needed to react. Kurapika was still alive. He  _ had _ to be alive. A red flag rised up in the back of his mind.

 

“You better hold on!” Chrollo declared before he heaved Kurapika against him and stood back up. “You better be alive! Don’t fucking do that to me!”

 

Desperately, Chrollo started to run with Kurapika inside his arms, feeling how weak and heavy he was at the moment. The longer he took, the less time Kurapika had, and that was something he couldn’t accept. He needed Kurapika in his life because he had to remember that he had been human once. He needed to know what it was to be loved, to be alive, to be something else than a cold and brutal murderer. Without Kurapika, everything would fade. Everything would go back to ashes, and the void inside his heart would be impossible to live with. So, Chrollo ran like had never ran before, keeping Kurapika against his torso, ignoring the pain radiating from his muscles and his tearing eyes. He had to save him. He had to succeed. There was no other option; he had made his choice. He forced himself to hold on until he finally reached the hidden exit he had planned to take several minutes ago. He didn’t know if the members of the Troupe would be there, he didn’t remember how many long he had spent searching for Kurapika inside this hotel. Hours? Days? Everything was so muddled inside his brain, leading him up to the very moment when he had lost his balance and had missed the chance to be killed for his sins. He should have died, he should have been stronger and pushed Kurapika away. Eventually, like an oasis, Chrollo noticed the truck where the members of the Troupe were still waiting for him. When they spotted him, Phinks was the first one to run to Chrollo.

 

“What the hell happened?” he said, looking at Kurapika’s face and wounds. “Where’s Hisoka? He said he was looking for you!”

 

“Please…Please save him…,” Chrollo whispered, his voice as broken as his heart. “I can’t let him die…He…He can’t die!”

 

Chrollo was a mess. He knew he looked so weak at this moment, far away from the character he had always been. He started to think that the rest of the members would leave him here because he wasn’t the boss they had always followed before. How could he explain what happened? He couldn’t believe it either. Hisoka had betrayed them. He had tried to take his life, but instead of doing it, he had shot Kurapika, hurting Chrollo to the very core. And he had certainly enjoyed it, how Chrollo had screamed and cried in front of the body of his lover, powerless because he wasn’t in charge anymore; he had to endure this cruel reality. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Pakunoda, Nobunaga, and Shalnark coming closer. He snapped back to reality when he felt a heavy hand over his shoulder.

 

“We can be at the General Hospital in less than five minutes, if you want, Danchou,” Nobunaga said, watching Shalnark already checking the map on his cellphone. “He’s alive. He can make it.”

 

Chrollo nodded as he didn’t exactly understand everything then. He felt guilty, because he had been so sure that the members of the Troupe would deny his request, judging that Kurapika’s life wasn’t worth it. And yet, they chose to save him. They gave the last member of the Kurta Clan a chance. All he knew was that he had quickly followed the rest of the Troupe to the truck, forgetting the events inside the building. He forgot that they were wanted by the police, and that they had committed their biggest robbery in ages. He didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t enjoy it. All he could feel was the weak body he kept inside his arms and the cold skin he sometimes fondled. He didn’t recognize any road nor any street during the ride. He kept his forehead against Kurapika, whispering tender things into his ears, unable to hide his feelings for him anymore. He was deeply afraid, aware that his lover was dying in his arms. Sometimes, he felt a hand over his shoulder, a sort of reassuring words coming from familiar lips, but he didn’t listen, he didn’t thank the person. He stayed focused on Kurapika. 

 

“Danchou, we’re almost there,” Machi called as they were about to reach the General Hospital. “You should leave him at the doorway, someone will take him inside!” 

 

“Yes Danchou, we can’t take the risk of going inside,” Nobunaga agreed, looking at the devastated face of his boss. 

 

They parked in front of the doors of the Emergency Room, and Chrollo knew that he had to make a decision at this moment. But, he couldn’t leave Kurapika alone. He knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if his lover died. 

 

“Wait for me,” he commanded before he managed to open the truck’s door as he kept Kurapika against him. “Five minutes, no more.”

 

He didn’t listen to any protestations; he had to go inside. It was necessary. Quickly, and painfully, he ran into the automatic doors, and reached the E.R. where many people were waiting to be healed. He spun on himself, looking for a doctor, until he finally saw one coming from the corridor in front of him. Chrollo knew that he was about to take a risk, but he had to try. He needed to be sure that Kurapika would be taken care of by the best specialists. He readjusted Kurapika’s position and heard a soft grumble coming from his lips. When Chrollo took a look at him, he saw how white the man was. His lips were colorless and his skin almost blue here and there. It was more than time for him to be saved.

 

“Hey!” Chrollo yelled to the doctor, running to him. “Hey doctor, here!” 

 

The doctor lifted his head up from his notes and looked at the man who was coming to meet him. He furrowed his eyebrows as he saw what he was carrying.

 

“What happened?” the doctor immediately asked, coming to Chrollo’s assistance. He put his hands over Kurapika’s neck. “His pulse is terribly weak! Put him here!” he ordered as he showed him an empty bed next to the wall. “What happened?” he asked a second time, opening Kurapika’s shirt. 

 

“He…He was shot during the auctions…,” Chrollo answered, unable to look away from the doctor’s ministrations. 

 

“How long has it been since he passed out?” the doctor continued to question, checking Kurapika’s vital signs, just before he called for some nurses to help him. “I need Block 8 to be ready, Katherine please!”

 

“I don’t know…I...Ten minutes?” 

 

The doctor sighed loudly as he continued to palm Kurapika’s chest to check his wounds. They were deep and he was still bleeding out, his eyes still shut.

 

“Fuck that’s a long time, kid.” the doctor answered, more to himself than to Chrollo. He finally put the notes he was holding onto Kurapika’s legs and started to move the bed.

 

“Sir, I need you to stay here now, you can’t go with me.,” he ordered Chrollo, yet it seemed that Chroolo wasn’t going to leave Kurapika. He firmly gripped the bed, ignoring the doctor’s demands. “Sir!”

 

Chrollo caressed Kurapika’s cheeks before he leaned closer to place a gentle kiss onto his blue lips. There was no answer coming from Kurapika; he stayed immobile like a true sleeping beauty. There was no magic to save him.

 

“I promise I’ll come for you!” Chrollo whispered into his ear. “I won’t leave your side. I’ll come back and I’ll protect you! Don’t you forget that! Don’t you dare die on me! I’ll come back. I swear.”

 

But before he could say anything else, Kurapika was gone, taken by the doctors to the operating room. Chrollo stayed motionless in the corridor, his heart beating rapidly inside his chest.

 

_ Please don’t die…Please don’t leave me.  _

 

_ I’ll be back. _

 

_ I swear. _

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi ! on my tumblr: <http://madlymiho.tumblr.com/>
> 
>  
> 
> Say thanks! to my beta reader : <http://yaoiobsessedwrites.tumblr.com/>
> 
>  
> 
> Find my Yuri !!! on ice fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9120484/chapters/20728225)


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